Come get your horoscope!
Aries – Eek! Blasted warlock sentenced you to the Dream Realm; the purple haze and its shifting shapes–shapes you cannot quite discern, shapes that shift and distort when your gaze lands upon them–warmly welcome your shadowy, gelatinous form. You must be so tired, Traveler. You don’t belong here, but why don’t you stay for a while? Your energy trickles away, your eyelids toy with closing and your mind liquifies. Stay, Traveler. Stay.
Taurus – Greetings, Paycom Plaything. You will find nothing here for you. Why don’t you go suckle on the chapped teat of the Wonderful, Easy-to-Use Paycom Mobile App?
Gemini – I don’t know how else to phrase this. You have motherless behavior.
Cancer – Cancer, you’re so stressed. Find a moment of respite from the stress of midterms, like at my dad’s cabin this weekend. You can’t miss the huge fucking party I’m throwing–you know, we’ll have the 3 B’s: booze, babes and blunts. Also, I know your crush Katie is going to be there, and she gets so horny when drunk. Directions to the cabin are simple: it’s the only dilapidated building in this corner of the woods, the coloring of the wood has lost its lustre and the locals keep muttering something about a fabled man with a mask and a chainsaw. Come on, pussy, join us. It’s going to be killer.
Leo – Σ balls.
Virgo – A sharp knock on the door will startle you out of your reverie, Virgo. Open up, a voice will whisper through the wood. Let me in, a voice will plead. Please, you know it’s Captain Cane’s hunting hour, a voice will cry.
Libra – I’ll tell you your horoscope, sure. Well, actually, things at the medieval infirmary have been a little backed up ever since that big fucking dragon stepped on the tavern and squashed all those orcs. How about we do a trade? You go out and collect 10 unrefined pieces of iron, 15 elk leather and 10 rosebuds. Then–and only then–will your future be foretold.
Scorpio – This week brings a struggle to you, Scorpio. You will have to find your inner strength and listen to a man named something like Josh tell you all about his opinions on Afghanistan.
Sagittarius – Sorry, Sagittarius, but it’s time to suck up to SA. You want that pizza for your cute little club? You’ll have to sign off the ownership of your first-born to your SA representative, Rumplestiltskin.
Capricorn – Awoogah, awoogah! You shit with that ass, Capricorn?
Aquarius – Don’t drink the red wine this week, lest ye be trapped in the Testicular Quagmire.
Pisces – Seriously, please write for the Collegian. Okay, I’ll refine this: please write for the satire section. I’m a funny little birthday boy. Please? Won’t you write for the funny little birthday boy?
