By Mason Johnson
Warning: If you love astrology, are offended easily, or/and have no sense of humor, these might not be for you.
Aries, you’re kind of pathetic. To ensure you don’t get shown up, the moon and the stars suggest you only take on opponents smaller and weaker than yourself. Good luck with that!
Sorry, I was too busy winning a gold medal to write this horoscope.
Don’t go to Denny’s. Seriously. I know what you’re thinking, Gemini. They got breakfast 24 hours a day! You want the Grand Slam—pancakes, eggs, bacon? Done! You want the Belgian Waffle Slam—you got it! Sausage slam? It’s yours! Lumberjack Slam? Don’t know what that is, I’ve always assumed lumberjacks live off a steady diet of tree bark and raw venison they’ve peeled straight from a living deer with their teeth, but they have it at Denny’s (whatever it is).
I’m not saying Denny’s is bad. There’s definitely an appeal there. All I’m saying is that they’re extraordinarily insidious.
Okay, hypothetically speaking, let’s say you’re driving through Vegas and you’re starving. Absolutely starving. And the closest thing is Denny’s. You’re so hungry, you break the “No Denny’s” rule I’ve just given you, park your car and walk right on in. That’s mistake number one. It starts innocently enough, a few pancakes, an egg or two, maybe you splurge on a t-bone steak. But then you’re drinking because for some horrible reason there’s a bar in the place, which leads you to talk to the other patrons, one of which is named Rita who, while a nice person, is old enough to be your mother and is an unnatural orange color that can only further be described as “unholy,” and before you know it the drinks you’re pounding back are making ol’ toothless Rita prettier and prettier and then BAM, that’s right, you’re married to her, Gemini, you’re suddenly Mr. Rita-and-the-Hideous-Fake-Tan. And you know what? Marriage is forever, Gemini.
I wish you and Rita the best of luck.
(Everything I’ve said here is a joke. I love Denny’s. Everyone should eat at Denny’s.)
In this current job climate, jobs, or “jorbs” as our Canadian friends say, are hard to come by. Thankfully, there’s one organization that is hiring your exact skillset.
You might be feeling a bit uneasy about the future. Don’t let that feeling in the pit of your stomach control you though, it’s just gas.
Some simple advice: Know what you’re worth. Especially if you happen to be a politician.
I don’t care what you are and aren’t destined to do today, Libra. You have to drop everything you’re doing and criticize this pizza museum opening in Philadelphia. What the heck does Philly know about pizza?
Let’s face it, you’re probably too old to enjoy Lollapalooza. Just stick to shows at Ravinia or something. Maybe we can see Stevie Nicks there sometime soon? Call me.
You could live your life with your head held high, trying your absolute best at everything you do. Or you could admit that there’s a goat more talented than you and just give up on your dreams.
Rep. Joe Walsh, this one’s for you, buddy! How about you try to NOT be racist? Thanks.
(Seriously though, radical Muslims in the suburbs? I’ve been to Elk Grove, there is absolutely nothing radical about it, literally or colloquially.)
Though I doubt you’re afraid to criticize the boss-wo/man to his/her face, you can alway do it anonymously.
Sure, you could sit back, relax, take things slow, maybe write a poem or two… OR, you could live your life to the fullest and ask, “WHAT WOULD THE SKATEBOARDING GOAT DO???”
Mason Johnson knows nothing about astrology and is…