Aries (March 21st-April 19th): Based on the heavens, it looks like football can take Florida Atlantic just so long as Saturn is within 300 meters of the sun at halftime, and most of the stars in Pegasus die out by Thursday. In Tre We Trust.
Taurus (April 20th-May 20th): Either this telescope is flipping something, or the answer to your midterm’s essay question will be ABEDEECABADBBAEDCAAEBDADEDDEBA and the multiple choice section is going to be really, really long.
Gemini (May 21st-June 20th): No, okay? No. I can’t keep enabling you, Gemini; you need to learn to make your own decisions. You’re letting an “astrologer” who’s failing STEM and Business Writing affect your real life choices. Do you realize how insane that sounds? Take control of your own destiny! Stop listening to me talk about celestial orbs, and grow a pair of your own!
Cancer (June 21st-July 22nd): Why do they put a fence around the Homecoming bonfire? The stars are silent on this, so either the answer is supposed to be obvious, or — more likely — they’re hiding something in there. One million reincarnations with rich parents to the man who hops the barrier!
Leo (July 23rd-August 22nd): The stars recommend skipping the meatloaf in Pat Case this Thursday. I don’t want to get the paper in trouble, but suffice it to say that they were not about to throw away the remaining 39 pounds and 15 ounces of aorta meat over one bad review.
Virgo (August 23rd-September 22nd): The fall equinox draws further and further away, in a poetic contrast to the Chevy Equinox rapidly drawing closer and closer to you as you read this horoscope. If you don’t look up from the paper, you’re going to really wish you were in your healing energy in about three… two… two and a half…
Libra (September 23rd-October 22nd): They say history repeats itself. But then they also say that a monkey chained to a typewriter will eventually type the works of William Shakespeare, and I’m on my third bonobo with no book deal in sight. Moral of the story? Don’t believe everything they tell you. That, or you’re supposed to feed monkeys.
Scorpio (October 23rd-November 21st): Okay, okay, I get it, you’re supposed to feed monkeys! Geez, sorry I didn’t come out of the womb with a monkeyology degree, ok???
Sagittarius (November 22nd-December 21st): At 4:23 a.m. this Tuesday, a benevolent constellation will jolt you awake, suddenly reminded of the assignment for your micro econ class due at 9 a.m. Try to remember that you don’t have a micro econ class before you spend three hours completing the analysis Calliope was trying to remind your downstairs neighbor about.
Capricorn (December 22nd-January 19th): The karmic effects of using Claude for every assignment this semester come back to haunt you this week, as you wake up on Wednesday morning to discover that your treasured 45,000 gallons of water have been stolen from your dorm room, forcing you to find a new conversation piece for the coffee table.
Aquarius (January 20th-February 18th): Aquarius, you’re experiencing elevated levels of good judgement from Saturn, you weigh in here — did it not feel like Scorpio was being really oversensitive jumping down my throat about the monkey thing? I feel like this was an understandable mistake. I mean, it’s not like it was people.
Pisces (February 19th-March 20th): THIS MESSAGE IS FOR BAYLOR HAYES ONLY; ALL OTHER PISCES PLEASE REFER TO CAPRICORN. Baylor. Buddy. Pal. I need you to do me a big solid and give it your all out there. I’m scrying my orb right now and I promise your knee will be okay. Mine, on the other hand, are in real danger of being capped if this bet doesn’t pan out. So please, leave it all on the field this Saturday.
