HAIRSHIRT
Helping You Get the Most Out of Your Misery
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HAIRSHIRT Helping You Get the Most Out of Your Misery |
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Wednesday, January 18, 2006Hairshirt Horoscope
Aries: You are just incredibly excited to go and visit New Orleans, once it's rebuilt entirely in chocolate. In fact, you already have plans to eat a whole jazz club, including the marzipan drum kit!
Taurus: Try to curb any desire to tell a co-worker to fuck off today. Blow a snot in their cocoa instead. (It looks like just another marshmallow, see?) Gemini: You get a pet mouse this week. Except it's not so much a pet as a thing that makes you scream like a little girl when it sprints across your counter and hides behind the bread box. Cancer: You're mega-excited about this week's publication of issue 4 of DC's Infinite Crisis, in which we finally find out that the Luthor from another dimension is actually behind everything that's been going on and you just don't care who knows it. Well, I'm with you, pal. This issue rawked! Leo: This week, you finally get that nick-name you've wanted since you were ten: "Douche-Face". It's got a nice ring to it, doesn't it? Virgo: Stuffing your bra is bad enough. Stuffing it with mashed yams is just wrong. Libra: It's good to try to look on the sunny side of things, but staring directly at the sunny side can do serious damage to your retinas, so make sure you're looking at the sunny side through a welding helmet or similar protective device. Scorpio: You're still super pissed that Bob Hoskins lost the Golden Globe for Best Supporting Actor. Let those fucks in the Hollywood Foreign Press know how you feel, man. Take out a full page "The Hollywood Foreign Press can eat me" ad in Variety. Sagittarius: That bottle of hot sauce you chugged to impress party guests last night is going to come back to haunt you right about...now. Capricorn: The Year of the Rooster is almost over. Wha'choo gonna do then, bitch? Huh? You best not fuck with the Dog. See, the Dog will bite. Oh yes. Aquarius: You're feeling peeved this evening, after finding out that some other bunch of assholes swiped your idea to kidnap Tony Blair's son. You've got to be quicker out of the gate on shit like that, m'man. Pisces: You like to think of yourself as the flaming bag of dog poop on the doorstep of American Society. Whatever rocks your boat, chief.
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