Herman Horoscopes
K then, you herman chaps and chapesses, here are your horoscopes. Who knows, today could be your lucky day! Maybe, if your stars are smiling on you, you'll meet a tall dark stranger! And maybe, just maybe, a squadron of Red Arrows flown by Pinky and fucking Perky will crash on your house whilst you're reading this page. I know which one my money's on.
| Aries | Taurus | Gemini | Cancer | Leo | Virgo |
| Libra | Scorpio | Sagittarius | Capricorn | Aquarius | Pisces |
ARIES (Jan 23-Feb 23)
Old habits die hard. Some die harder than others. The ones that take longest to die are the habits you don't even know you have. Even your friends and relatives and strangers you meet on the street don't know you have them. Nobody in the whole wide world knows. But the stars know. Oh yes, they most assuredly do. These non-existent "virtual" habits are extremely hard to break, for how can you stop doing something that you don't know you do? Luckily, help is at hand - Saturn peaks in the southern quarter of Gemini later this month, and this, together with the conjunction of Jupiter with the Ides of March on Pluto, signifies that a change is coming. This will manifest itself in your ability to finally change those unknown habits that have been chaining you unwittingly to the past.
It is also finally time to let go - forget the overenthusiastic back massage that the gym teacher gave you after all the other kids had got changed and gone off to double French in 'A' Block. Forget the time that you came home to find your partner parading round the house in your underwear. It's all water under the bridge now - a new dawn is dawning, and you will find that you can slowly but surely begin to contemplate eating salami again. A game of Canasta on the 14th will bring dividends, and Thursday week is a good day to tell that attractive girl at work that you would like to rub Marmite all over her breasts whilst she slaps you round the face with a week-old kipper. Avoid climbing walls on the 27th, and don't go out of your house at all on the 18th - the mad axe murderer you thought you'd finished off with a swift blow to the head in the abandoned quarry last July has finally dug his way out of the makeshift grave you dumped him in, and he is slowly and unblinkingly making his way down the road towards your house with shuffling gait, peeling skin and arms held out in front of him.
TAURUS (Oct 19-Jun 23)
Are you trying your best? Well are you? Answer the question, damn you! Are you a PERSON or a MOUSE??? Because if you're not trying your best, you are ignoring the presence of Mars in the second segment of the Pleiades, and you are just asking for a fall, baby. If you are trying your best, then hey, what's the problem dude? There's no point in trying to do more than you are able to. Don't kill yourself trying to achieve something that you will patently never manage. Give up, in other words; if you haven't managed to achieve a satisfactory erection with your partner by now, it's probably never going to happen. Likewise, faking orgasms isn't going to fool him forever, you know.
Your problem is, you risk doing more harm than good if you persist in striving for the unattainable. This is clearly shown by the appearance later this month of Polaris over Orion's left shoulder. You really ought to recognise the signs by now. Firstly, your hair has started falling out again, hasn't it? Secondly, you're so uptight you're finding it difficult to piss, and thirdly you've chewed the handles off fifteen cricket bats in the last week alone. But it's OK, don't worry; an end to this troublesome patch of ill fortune is just around the corner. From next Wednesday, the best plan of action is to hang back a little and allow nature to take it's course. This should reap instant rewards, and by Friday you should be knee-deep in quality sex and money. However, avoid complacency; there's a very real chance that an escaped hungry pig will eat you from the thighs down on Saturday if you don't wipe that smug fucking grin off your face.
If, on the other hand, you're a mouse, expect to be caught, played with and eventually dismembered by next door's cat sometime between Friday and Sunday.
GEMINI (Jul 10-Aug 31)
The chances of winning the lottery are very very small indeed. But they are huge by comparison with the chances of you making something decent and worthwhile out of your sad, sad life. But let's not get things out of perspective - there are positive elements to be taken from the imminent collapse of the Little Bear and the apparently unconnected juxtaposition of Venus and Mercury in your planetary alignment vector. For a start, the scabies should start to itch a little less in a week or so, and changing the lotion to one you are less allergic to will also play a part in this. Also, the voices in your head clamouring for the death of your local used-car salesman will be dampened by the huge amount of ketamin that you will be prescribed after you tell your doctor that you believe yourself to be a reincarnation of Thomas Dolby. The third silver lining to this particular cloud is that the police will accidentally contaminate vital evidence, the DNA test will prove inconclusive, and the judge will order the jury to return a verdict of not guilty. From here on, things can only get better! And what better way to celebrate than with a twelve-day kiddy-fiddling spree? Be careful around the 25th, however, as those pesky kids will be snooping round your shed again and taking great interest in the curtains made from human skin and the TV aerial made from femurs and ribs. This time, paying them 10 quid each to go away may not be enough.
CANCER (Oct 12-Nov 20)
When we look back at old photographs of ourselves, we are often amazed, not to say embarrassed, by the clothes and hairstyles that we adopted when we were younger. Not you though. And you know why? YOU STILL DRESS THE FUCKING SAME! For God's sake, buy some new bloody clothes! And get rid of that cunting mullet while you're at it. It was bad enough then, but now... you look like a German football fan for God's sake. Luckily for you, the emergence of Pluto in the north-east triangle of Cassiopeia brings with it a slight possibility of change. You should now be capable of going to the shops, handing over some cash and returning home with some garments made more recently than 1987. But stay away from the charity shops - your money is better spent enlarging the already fantastically engorged wallets of the modern fashion industry than contributing towards guide dogs for the blind or whatever. After all, blind people can't see your new clothes, can they? Although the fact that you have no blind friends probably has something to do with the fact that their guide dogs can smell you coming from four streets away and quite sensibly lead them across busy streets without waiting for the lights in order that they can be spared the olfactory displeasure of encountering your hideously unwashed jeans.
Take care not to say any words containing l's or w's on the 10th and 13th, and remember to buy some new toilet roll on the 17th - that cardboard tube won't last forever, you know.
LEO (Apr 26-Sep 1)
Ask yourself this one question: whose life is it anyway? Well, the answer to that depends on how much money you owe to whom, and on how much you've allowed other people (friends, relatives, employers, partners) to stake a claim to what should be YOUR life. Just remember, no-one else is running this show but you. Who are they to tell you what to do? The penetration of Jupiter by Mercury rising in the fourth semi-final of the penultimate equinox is as clear an indication as it is possible to have that it is time to re-assert control and clear the decks. You have allowed yourself to be walked over for far too long. Tell the banks, credit card companies and loan sharks to whistle for their money - you'll pay back the money you owe them in your own time, not theirs. Tell your freeloading friends that the last gravy train just left the station and they were too late to get on board. Tell your whinging relatives that you'll visit your dying grandma if and when you feel like it and not before. Tell your mealy-mouthed boss that you'd rather chew your way through a mountain of incontinent dingo shit than continue to work for his rat's minge of a company. And tell your complaining, never-satisfied, insecure, downright tedious long-term partner that you'd sooner felch dogs on Mars than marry them.
After this month is out, you will need to undertake a few important tasks. You will need to buy some replacement kneecaps, start looking for some new friends, start applying for new jobs, apply for adoption into a new family, return the engagement ring to the jewellery shop for a partial refund, and sit crying your eyes out wrapped in a tight foetal ball on the sofa for an infinitely long period of sheer unbelievable gut-wrenching eternity as you contemplate the ruins of what should have been as good a chance at real happiness in life as you are ever likely to get, you fucking selfish inconsiderate little shit.
VIRGO (May 11-Jun 23)
Here's an interesting question - where does the darkness go when you turn on the light? Ha, trick question - it doesn't go anywhere, you just can't see it any more! And that means that it never goes away; as soon as you turn the light off, it's there waiting for you. And do you know what that means? It means that there's NO ESCAPE. You can run, but you can't hide. Or rather, you can run and hide but it won't do any good because the darkness will find you. Not only that but it will be there before you to greet you as you worm your way into the little protective cocoon that you have so diligently attempted to weave between yourself and that big horrible scary world that refuses to accept you for the undiscovered genius that you are. They are ALL bastards, and what is more, they ARE out to get you. But it's not all bad news. Uranus is leaching tertiary aspects throughout the coming four weeks, and Betelgeuse's forthcoming troilism with the Alpha and Proxima Centauri sisters should counteract the negative fusion of the Plough with Andromeda. This should enable you to look at the question in a different way. Darkness is simply the absence of light; it is not a thing as such, and it is therefore incapable of harming you unless you trip over an unseen chair or something. The secret, then, is to ensure that the dark spaces of life are as uncluttered with the furniture of circumstance as possible. Achieve this and you will find that although your vision may be clouded, you will fear no evil as you walk through the valley of the dolls towards the circus of hope. And when you get there, the elephants of happiness will stand upon the rostrums of contentment, and the clowns of goodness will throw custard pies in the face of death, whilst the audience of success laughs merrily and the ringmaster of fortitude receives a blow-job from the chorus-girl of joy. And remember to wrap up warm on Tuesday.
LIBRA (Feb 19-Aug 30)
Last month, I suggested that if you ignored the myriad demons that threatened your very existence, they would give up and leave you alone. Judging by the responses I received, you're all a bunch of wankers. Obviously, I meant that advice in the spirit with which it was intended, i.e. as a metaphorical interpretation of the very real dilemmas posed by the latent scarification of Venus induced by the fourteenth successive conjugation of Draco, an event that only happens once every 93,000,000 years. The results of this are obvious to anyone, and I cannot be held responsible for the demise of a few practicing Satanists who took my advice literally.
But what I will say is that confronting your problems head-on by refusing to accept they exist can often be a very effective way of convincing yourself that all is well in the Garden of Eden. We all know the parable of Jesus and the Ostrich; when fasting in the desert for forty days and forty nights, Jesus hid his head in the sand to prevent it being bitten off by a starving ostrich. The ostrich, unable to work out where Jesus's head had gone to, wandered off dismayed and fell to its death down a Frankinsense mine. This has obvious parallels with our own lives, although be careful not to follow the parable too closely unless you want to end up nailed to a cross on your 34th birthday. The point of all this, obviously, is that the stars were influencing events as long ago as biblical times, and that if Jesus had paid closer attention to his astrologers he could be alive and well today. So this month, when I tell you to avoid getting lifts in blue cars on the 15th or drinking in pubs with upstairs toilets between Monday and Thursday, I hope you will do the sensible thing for once and take this advice seriously.
SCORPIO (Jan 19-Mar 25)
You are either feeling very confused or very frustrated. Perhaps you don't know whether to punch the air in a joyous exclamation of joy or headbutt the floor in a despairing gesture of despair. Perhaps you don't know what to make of the behaviour of your nearest and dearest. Perhaps you are a clueless cunt. Have you fully considered that last option? Your failure to make head or tail of the bewildering complexity of events that have swept over you like a spring tide over a child's sandcastle could possibly be due to the fact that you lack the ability to comprehend the basic facts. Maybe you're just as thick as absolute fuck, and no amount of consulting horoscopes, tarot cards, fortune tellers or any other purported purveyor of meaning will be able to clear the dense fog that fills your laughable excuse for a brain no matter how long or hard you try. On the other hand, the fact that Neptune will rim Taurus in a few days suggests that understanding could be just around the corner, and the recombination of the Oort Cloud with Ganymede is certain to suggest the possibilty of the chance that a resolution may or may not occur. Continue to play the waiting game; something is bound to happen sooner or later. In fact, I'll go out on a limb here and say that something will definitely happen before too long. And eventually, several things will happen. Some of these things may or may not appear to be connected. They may or may not actually occur. And if or when they do, you may or may not experience a feeling that might perhaps be construed as ambivalence towards the conclusions that these potential experiences might or might not lead you towards. Or they might not.
SAGITTARIUS (Apr 9-Feb 1)
You so much want to understand, to help out. You are desperate to assist those who are experiencing difficulties. You oh so badly want to sort out the problems of those around you. Unfortunately you are wasting your time. Those around you are incapable of accepting good advice if it was handed to them on a plate by their best friend. Which, let's face it, is exactly what you've been trying and failing to do for what feels like fucking ages. No, the hymenisation of Pegasus in the nether regions of the Leopard reveals that you are barking up the wrong brick wall. These people just will not be told. But hey, let they who are without sin etc. I mean, is everything so perfect in your life that you can afford to float around dispensing wisdom to your mates like some kind of benevolent cigarette machine that dispenses wisdom instead of fags? What is your partner doing right now? Maybe they're enjoying vigorous oral sex with your so-called best mate. Maybe, as you sit here reading this, your loved one is having all their orifices enthusiastically investigated by your prospective choice of best man or chief bridesmaid. And maybe they're laughing at you; huge, bellowing guffaws at the thought of you sitting hunched over your computer while they screw themselves into ecstatic, exhausted oblivion and then lie there whilst their bodily fluids mingle on the sheets that YOU paid for. Who knows? I'm not saying anything, except that if you really want to do anything about it, come home from work early on the 29th and stick a fucking great meat cleaver through the door of the wardrobe in your spare room.
CAPRICORN (May 2-May 1)
One thing about Capricorns is that they refuse to suffer fools gladly, and you are no exception. In fact, the last fool you encountered is bricked up in your cellar and would be screaming uncontrollably if you hadn't nailed their tongue to a Barry Manilow CD box set. But have you ever considered that the biggest fool you've ever suffered has been yourself? Of course you haven't. But I have. And you are. So watch out. Especially on the 31st, because I'll be waiting for you with a roll of masking tape, a big stick and a Party Selection box of circular saw blades. Oh no, not the 31st, the collusion of Phobos with Deimos prevents that. Or does it? You don't know, do you? Sometime, between now and the end of your life, I'll be waiting for you. And I'll give you a clue: it'll be very shortly before the end of your life. In the meantime, avoid the falling piano on the 17th, the speeding car on the 19th and the prawn sandwiches on the 20th. Everything will be fine after the 22nd. Although not necessarily for you.
AQUARIUS (Jan 1 - mar 3)
A watched pot never boils, or so they say. But what do they know? Have they ever watched an unwatched pot to see if it boils or not? Of course they haven't! But in his famous thought experiment conducted in 1936, the physicist Schrodinger postulated the existence of a hypothetical pot that if unwatched for long enough would simultaneously boil and freeze at the same time. Schrodinger's Pot formed the theoretical foundation for future work by Einstein, Planck and the Grateful Dead. All of this would mean nothing if it weren't for the fact that Achilles is rampant in Juno for the next forseeable future, which renders all of Schrodinger's results null and void. The field is therefore open for enterprising members of the public to repeat his experiments and claim all the results for themselves. However, this is complicated by the fact that the laws of gravity and electromagnetic radiation have been temporarily repealed by the apparition of Titan over the Sea of Tranquility, so approach your test tubes with care! It will be a mundane month otherwise, apart from the shower of live bandicoots over your uncles on the 14th and the kidnapping of your eldest child by flesh-eating rabid cockroaches every day until the 29th.
PISCES (Apr 1 - Oct 1)
Some people say that Piscean hermans are all mouth and no trousers. The truth, however, is that they are all scales, gills and fins, and no legs, lungs or long-term memory. That's because they're fish for Christ's sake. And I don't care what the animal rights lot say, fish can go fuck themselves. Anything stupid enough to eat food with hooks attached deserves everything it gets. We are evolution! The weakest go to the wall and the strongest survive. I don't know about you but I could punch the fuck out of any fish you care to mention except sharks. And maybe electric eels, but they're not really fish in the accepted sense of the word. Jupiter foaming above Triton's lower lumbar region is all the demonstration you need that the extinction of these scaly throwbacks is close enough to warrant buying the bunting, booking the halls and starting the celebrations now.