Let's Extrapolate Wildly: My Horoscope This Week
If your mojo’s been in slow-mo or chilling on the downlow, things should perk back up this Thursday, November 15, as heatseeking Mars marches into Pisces and your steamy eighth house for the rest of the year.
My complete lack of sex drive has literally nothing to do with my cocktail of SSRIs and the current state of democracy, but instead with the location of Mars (!). Now that the lazy red bitch is out to catch a fish dick in my eighth house, I’ll be falling asleep on top of a brand new collection of butt plugs instead of different restaurants’ chicken parms. What a sexy bitch I will be! Watch out world.
I’ll be listening to a lot of Aaron Tveit covers of Bruno Mars songs. Maybe I’ll get a job involving some kind of boa at a cabaret bar. I’ll take this opportunity to sexually corrupt a beloved Community Board Member. I’ll most certainly contract a new and very interesting strain of HPV.
Once I’ve slayed all the dongs below 14th street, my raw sexual magnetism will drag me, as if on a #HoCloud, to Dorrian’s on the Upper East Side. There, wearing my old volleyball uniform, I will regain and subsequently re-lose my anal virginity to my high school boyfriend (who is now a cop).
Things will settle down in your friend circle, and if you’ve been on the outs with a sibling or neighbor, it’ll be easier to bury the hatchet now.
I’ll find out this week that everyone really does like me. My insecurities will all melt away and I’ll learn that every negative feeling and self-doubt I’ve ever had is simply internalized sexism and a gluten sensitivity.
My neighbor, Tai, will calm the fuck down. On Thursday, I’ll go drink tall boys and listen the The Wiz soundtrack on my roof and, instead of calling the cops of me and saying I’m an intruder, she’ll bring up a blunt and a meatball sub. We’ll work together to plan a “Wizards and Sluts” party in Club Basement (the laundry room) for this weekend.
All the neighbors will come, including that bitch Serena. Serena’s even cuntier sister (Aly) will have finally flown home to Indiana following her messy divorce from Sean Gordon. This will give Serena an air of excitability. At the party, she will teach everyone how to play Kings “Indiana Style” and catch my new and very interesting strain of HPV (!).
One tiny proviso for Friday: That day kicks off messenger Mercury’s final retrograde of the year, which will start in Sagittarius and your passion zone and end in Scorpio on December 6...Go easy on any makeover magic while messenger Mercury has his foot on the brake.
Even though I’m going to be super horny, I will be completely incapable of communicating effectively and none of my decisions should be trusted. Look at me - I’m the Rush Chair of your fraternity now.
I’ll completely ignore the makeover advice for the next 3 weeks and instead opt to blow my life the fuck up. I’ll post things on IG about Mercury in Retrograde and use it as an excuse to buy hideous Fendi sunglasses that I can’t afford.
I’ll decide that leggings with holes in the crotch are actually a stylistic choice. I’ll put a cigarette out in my eye so I can continue wearing a sexy gold eyepatch after having an ADA complaint filed against me for appropriation.
I’ll cut off the left side of my hair and dye the right side Spotify logo green. Aly Gordon will move back from Indiana and we’ll open a pet grooming store. The Community Board Member I banged will shut it down for public endangerment and generally being icky.
**Horoscope excerpts taken from Elle