After your family discovers “Snooki nude photos” in your Google search history, you’ll quietly pack up and live off the land for a few years, hoping things will eventually blow over.
One time, many years ago, you thought about looking up your astrological sign on the internet. Upon discovering Aquarius is ruled by Uranus, you slammed off the monitor and ran to the bathroom with tears streaming down your eyes, terrified of the day when this fact would be exposed to the world, leaving all Aquariuses as social pariahs amongst the cool Zodiacs. The day you feared has arrived, my friend, and my hundreds of millions of readers now know your horrible secret.
You will be mistaken for Justin Bieber and immediately get thousands of unsolicited love letters sent daily to your address from 12-year-old “Beliebers”. Have fun explaining when the cops come-a-knockin. Classic mix-up!
Your campus’s 9/11 Truthers will decide that you were the mastermind behind those terrible attacks. Your attempts to convince them your surname is actually more often than not Gentile, and that your grandparents are all Christian, will have no effect; they’re not buying it, my friend.
Your circle of friends will collectively quit smoking weed and realize that you’re really not witty, you just have a screechy voice.
“The final lesson a writer learns is that everything can nourish the writer.” Apparently I’ve a ways to go; writing about your life hasn’t exactly been a beet and spinach salad thus far.
As you approach your eightieth birthday you may ask why you should choose THIS novelty horoscope above all the others on the net. My answer? Because at 26 I’m the closest writer to your age. In fact, from the looks of it, apart from the geeks at The Onion, I’m twice as young as the next guys. Am I proud of my vocational decision? Fuck yeah!
While watching this week’s episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm, you’ll once again think to yourself “Larry is actually a pretty nice guy.” And it will finally dawn on you just how much you and all the people you know are complete assholes.
Okay, Virgo, rise and shine, and don’t forget your booties because it’s COLD out there today! (The last three weeks you’ve had this exact same horoscope. Have you even noticed that you’re stuck in Groundhog Day, or has it completely slipped you by? Think about what you’ve done over the past twenty days and try to prove me wrong.)
It will occur to you that even if you took all the “best of” clips from your entire life and squished them into one film, it still wouldn’t match “My Dinner with Andre”. Something to chew on this week.
I’ve always imagined Scorpios to look like Eurotrash with greasy blonde hair wearing a wife-beater shirt. Maybe it’s because of the band The Scorpions? I dunno. But yeah every week when I look to the stars for your future, that’s who I’m picturing.
Hey, remember when you finally graduated and thought, “This is it! I’m no longer the youngest person in my classes! Finally I’m on an even footing with the rest of the world!”? And remember back in the day when it sunk in that being in that situation for the first eighteen years of your life would have an debilitating effect on your character until your deathbed? Oh, you just realized that now? Glad I could help. By the way I won’t make it to your birthday party this year. Christmas shopping, and all.
Adam’s horoscopes appear on PP every Sunday!
You can read his other pieces [here]