Aries: That’s it, Aries; the stars are fed up with your negative karma. As punishment, at some point in the future, you will bite into a cheetoh which is inexplicably wet – not with any identifiable liquid, just sopping wet and mealy n shi. Worst of all, you can’t know when it happens, just that it will.
Taurus: The situation that will exist in Croatia in the future has gotten considerably worse. This eventual situation is a major humanitarian crisis, and we need your help. To donate, push as much money as you can under the door of room 2029 in John Mabee hall, or donate with apple cash to Croatia’s phone number, (708)-622-8376.
Gemini: We’ve stopped printing, but here you are still reading the Collegian; bravo! Writing these horoscopes is the only thing our editor unties my hands for anymore, so you reading them means a lot, and I really am sorry to predict that you break both femurs in the Kep bathroom this week.
Cancer: The stars predict that the John Mabee fire alarm will go off between seven and twelve times this week, and that they will be set off mostly by the microwave. With this knowledge, it is now necessary that you destroy the cod in the kitchen freezer before the unthinkable happens.
Leo: There are so many star signs, at least ten I’m pretty sure, but you had to be a Leo. You know I’ve never met one of you “people” in real life? I had googled them, and guess who was on the list? Fidel Castro. Benito Mussolini. Barack HUSSEIN Obama. Keeping good company, huh Commie?
Virgo: Somewhere out there, there is a safe place, where the government doesn’t spy on all Virgos to assassinate and identity-erase them if they discover the powerful telepathic abilities that germinate in all Virgos after 18 months of semen retention. Alas, this is not that place.
Libra: The orbit of Ursa Major – by which I mean the rotation of the Earth, since the Collegian Officially Denies the validity of geocentrism – reaches its yearly peak in the night sky. This increases your connection with nature, so enjoy a sunset this week, watching it sink over the allegedly curved horizon.
Scorpio: Orion’s belt points North, lowering your patience and self-control, while Halley’s comet flies normal to the planetary orbits, increasing your rage and capacity for hysterical strength. Look out – these are favorable crashout conditions.
Sagittarius: The sagittal plane is currently closed for construction, so I couldn’t astral project there to get your horoscope. From the stars, all I can gather is a general sense of foreboding and dread from the universe. Better prediction next week.
Capricorn: You Wiccans put up with these horoscopes each week while we Christians don’t suffer satirical content, so in the spirit of equality, this week’s prophecy comes from the book of Isaiah: “And for their rebellion I will crush them with a yoke of high schoolers in the ACAC. Their cries will rise unheard from the smell of AXE products” (87:33-34)
Aquarius: The stars have warned me that the sheer magnitude of frustration aura emanating from the little red number on the corner of your Outlook app is dangerously close to tearing your phone into itself and ripping a hole in the fabric of spacetime. Read your damn email, Aquarius!
Pisces: Healing energy flows from the constellation Eridanus, and your vitality surges. Let things happen naturally this week; it’s a perfect time for spiritual recovery. Process. Meet with friends. Exhale.
