Horoscopes, The Sinkhole Edition


Credit for the idea and the art to my talented friend.
Credit for the quote, of course, goes to the one who said it
Aries (3/21 – 4/19) I know a highly quotable person who says stuff that belongs on tattoos, so you'll see a lot of that here.  I stole this idea from a friend.  I have no creativity myself, but I know people.  Speaking of tattoos, I was in a hottub the other evening when a young military punk offered to show his tattoo.  I said yes.  Of course I did.  So he pulled off his bathing suit to reveal a tattooed ass that wasn't nearly as good as the one to the left.  I think it said "Cash Only".  Anyway, Aries, the point is, if you're going to get a tattoo, don't make it tacky.  Oh, wait, no that's not it.  The point is: just say no when people offer to show a tattoo, at least this week.

Taurus (4/20 – 5/20):  Silicon Valley is in the business of making forgetting extinct through use of the cloud and other technology.   I read that in the NYT, so it must be true.  Meanwhile, they've discovered forgetting receptors in the uterus.  The uterus has a lot to forget.  Trust me on this.  It turns out that forgetting is an actual ability, and it also has come to light that I'm gifted in that area.  Anyway, will someone tell those people?  Forgetting isn't so terrible!  But ... if one of you is still searching for a science project, maybe you could evaluate how uterine remembering could solve the population crisis.  Store those contractions in the cloud, see what happens.

Gemini (5/21 – 6/21):  JJ just called and told me a story about someone's large fleshy arms touching him accidentally.

"Can we make a new rule about that?" I asked.  "That's creeping me out.  For thirty days, please, no mention of the fleshy arms.  I need a break from that disturbing image."

"I'll try," he said unconvincingly.

I learned on the Internets, (where everything is true), that you Gemini people won't take crap from anyone.  This week, don't take inadvertent contact with large jiggly arms either.

Cancer 6/22 – 7/21:  I was at a restaurant the other day and asked some men who were seated at the other end of our table if they could please use their inside voices.  Luckily, this was met with laughter and offers of free drinks rather than how it could have gone down.  But Cancer, I'd like to emphasize my belief that one of the most important parental responsibilities is to teach your people about inside voices.  (Side note:  I heard a creepy thing that teachers say about "six inch voices" which I is when your voice only projects six inches.  That's taking it a little far, even for me.  Maybe I'm feeling a bit sensitive because I was at a meeting recently with someone who told me,  "Your voice would be better for pillow talk than making a point at a meeting."  Is that awkward?  YES.)  Anyway, Cancer, can we make a stand for the IV (inside voice) this week?


Leo (7/23 – 8/22):  Rice has 50,000 genes, and humans have 35,000.  That's the kind of thing we should think about every day, lest we get too cocky about ourselves.  We have the ability to laugh, sweat, weep, yearn, hope, send text messages, cook with bok choy, waste time, use the very same ingredients to make either paper mache or pie crust (right?), and participate in science fairs.  Rice, we have no idea what it can do, but it must be that plus thirty percent.  And rice looks so simple.  Leo, don't be fooled by that.  Every single thing is complicated.

videoVirgo (8/23 – 9/22): How cool is this?  The first science fair participant.  Not to mention one of my favorite young people, because he's smart and curious and kind and has complete and appropriate grasp of the Inside Voice.  (Please forgive the video quality.  Taken with a smart-ish phone.)

Libra (9/23 – 10/22): I was texting with R. the other day, and said something like, "Yes, my son..." and it suddenly occurred to me that people might think I'm trying out for pope.  (Are there tryouts?)  Anyway, Libra, if you're going to the conclave (I so wanted to use that word), please let them know I'm not available, I'm super busy re-reading customer e-mails and making tattoos out of them.  

Scorpio (10/23 – 11/21):  Make your mark this week in a watery, slurry-ish way.  Unobtrusive and easy-going, but not.  I mean that in the very best way, you remarkable Scorpios.  Think Colorado River.  Speaking of slurry, I don't know if everyone remembers this, but the caterpillar actually dissolves into slurry in that cocoon, and reformats as a butterfly but retains memories from being a caterpillar.  How cool is that?  So, if you're feeling slurryish, it probably means you're about to be a butterfly.  With memories.


In
Sagittarius (11/22 – 12/21):  Last week, I met The Boyz for a beer, and within about five minutes, they were arguing about something that neither one of them particularly cares about.  Seriously, they debated for about, oh, maybe 3 hours, or at least it seemed like three hours, about whether a parent should allow a young adult to take a break from college if they want to.  One of them doesn't have kids, and the other has Tiny Children.  It just reminds me that debaters debate.  But even though I was bored, I was bored in the most remarkable way, that way where you don't realize you miss people until they're boring you to tears.  Right?  Have a good week, Sag.  May the wind be always at your back.

Capricorn (12/22 – 1/19):  The other night I woke up from a horrible nightmare in which I'd received a text message that said, "5242".  I knew that was the code for "someone you care about is going down in a sinkhole." I know.  During the daylight, that sinkhole incident is just one more weird thing about Florida, but apparently it captured my psyche.  In the dream, I wandered around frantically looking for my person, but I didn't know where they were, and I was afraid that I might get sucked into the sinkhole myself.   I woke up in a sweat and told my companion about it, who laughed hard, saying without saying: "Really?  You actually dream you're a text-rescuer?".  It was a good way to wake up -- to have someone fondly poke fun of me and laugh out loud.  But it didn't quite dispel this vague sense of dread that someone's getting swallowed by a sinkhole.  Strap yourself to something before you go to sleep at night, Capricorn.  Beware of the undertoad.

Aquarius (1/20 – 2/18):  Aldous Huxley said, “Most men and women lead lives that are so painful, at the best, so monotonous, poor, and limited, that the urge to escape, the longing to transcend themselves, if only for a few moments, is and has always been one of the principal appetites of the soul.”  Aquarius, see if you can quench that appetite.  Transecend transecend transcend.  Oh, and if you're looking for a safe and legal method?   Alternate Nostril Breathing.

Yep, same guy.  How can you not be a fan?
Pisces (2/19 – 3/20):  You thought I'd write a whole post without nagging reminding you about the science fair?  We have a deadline coming up.  NEXT FRIDAY.  Is the suspense killing you?

Comments

  1. I don't care if you have cats or not because I know you have genius.

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  2. Mmmm ... pie crust. And paper mache. Two of the best things in the world. I'm thinking of changing my project, Betsy. Just trying to work out the details. I've already done some wiring on that old lamp, and I'd hate to waste that effort, so maybe I can use it to cook the pie, or dry the paper mache. That doesn't really sound like a scientific experiment, but I bet I'd have fun. Ahem. Yes, details. Need to work them out.

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    Replies
    1. Yes, this sounds like a safer option than home electrolysis.

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  3. Hey, I'm a Pisces and that's your horoscope for ME-to remind everyone about the Science fair?

    Am I acted just like a fucking Pisces, whine whine, the last one in the zodiac, inferiority complex, etc? Fishy-wishy? Is that what you think?

    It is what you think. I knew it.

    But lookit Capricorn, or Aries, or Cancer? Those are signs you LIKE. You wrote a lot about them!!!

    I'm in my corner sulking. I'll get over it though. Pisces are delusional. It's one of the nicest things about us, neglected as we are.

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    Replies
    1. Ms. Coyote, I have written a LOT for you today.

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  4. Would it be okay to do a science project that may harm animals (of the goldfish variety)?

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    Replies
    1. Um, I don't know how to bring this up, but those fish of yours? They're already dead. I know.

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