Kicked in the spleen

Behold the planets bumping and ricocheting in the sky like balls on a vast and demented billiardsphere. The outcome of this sadistic cosmic game was rigged eons ago—the only question is, in which pocket are you cowering?

Virgo (August 23 - Sept. 22)
Decision to fuck on rather than fuck off results in major fuck-up. Glue glued to glue with two gluey glues unglues. French friar fries French fries on French fry day (Friday).

Libra (Sept. 23 - Oct. 22)
Unexpected pregnancy puts the ‘u’ in ‘uterus’. Moon-hating astronaut sneers up at the night sky, intones “I’m coming for you bitch.” Synergy of artistic and sexual energies fails to spark up lint-covered spliff found beneath your mutual futon.

Scorpio (Oct. 23 - Nov. 21)
Uterus proves odious. Stupid relative you’re obliged to visit exclaims, “Warm up the ice, dear, company’s coming!” Next week you’ll be workin’ in a goal-oriented mine.

Sagittarius (Nov. 22 - Dec. 21)
A selection of probabilities for tonight’s business dinner: 2 percent chance of getting laid; 60 percent chance of getting kicked in the spleen with a five-inch stiletto; 44 percent chance of an embarrassing incident involving a shellfish platter; 5 percent chance of a fatal embolism.

Capricorn (Dec. 22 - Jan. 19)
Yourself proves myselfish. Beluga tearfully asserts, “Look at me! I’m a whale.” Annual general meeting of the Preposterous Ladies Society involves crinoline, high-pitched giggles, nasty outdoor bondage.

Aquarius (Jan. 20 - Feb. 18)
Deliberately bruise apples, bananas, shellfish. Capricorn asserts, “I wish I were called Capricornelius.” Your beloved iPhone proves trackable, hackable, cyber-attackable.

Pisces (Feb. 19 - March 20)
There are those who believe you are an insufferably callous and manipulative Turkish gigolo. Then there are those who believe you are an elderly Chinese chambermaid who can’t speak a word of English. The truth, of course, lies somewhere in between.

Aries (March 21 - April 19)
Pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey proves tacky. Epicurean Aries asserts, “Surely there’s a place nearby where a discerning gentleman can smash a few authentic Ming vases.” Lower bowel inflammation proves dynamic, irrepressible.

Taurus (April 20 - May 20)
Astrological pun proves Capricorny. Old Testament God asserts, “Yeah, I kill babies. All the time. Whatcha gonna do ’bout it?” Tonight you’ll inadvertently violate your lover’s insanely strict dog-feeding protocol, face the consequences.

Gemini (May 21 - June 20)
When they came for the Capricorns, you said nothing for you are not a Capricorn. Sagittarius astrologer asserts, “I prognosticate on a strictly need-to-foreknow basis.” An unfortunate moment of distraction will prevent you from reading this sentence in its entirety.

Cancer (June 21 - July 22)
Your ambition clings to Pisces’ destiny like a tenacious, genetically-modified leechvine. Aries astronomer asserts, “This thing about the stars and planets being our friends is going right out the window the day the sun explodes.” Tonight you’ll moonlight, twilight, flashlight.

Leo (July 23 - August 22)
The planets are united in a rare consensus: next week you are going to jail. What you go to jail for is entirely up to you.