The sun and stars are aligned in your life, telling me you’ll cook a lasagne on Thursday, given that this month’s cupboards are bountiful in almost out of date jars of Ragu.
Has a new man come into your life? The spirits of the universe are calling you to ignore him, for his endowment is smaller than the plausibility of this article.
Your compatibility with Scorpios has gone up exponentially this week. However, ditch your lifelong Aries friends, because the stars wish it. x
You will get a feeling of déjà vu.
This month you have an intense nature, a drive to get things done. But don’t actually drive, because you can’t and you don’t own a car. DON’T STEAL THAT CAR, LEO.
Your dear author is a Virgo, born in the beautiful month of August. Nothing shall go wrong and everyone should befriend a Virgo. It is known.
If LeBron James were female in an alternate universe, he might be called LeBra James. Move to Cleveland.
You can’t help but wonder why Taylor Swift is pretending to be bad, when she looks like your friend who’s proud to be a conservative. Sadly, you’ll still listen to her new song, because it’s in your head.
Is it a soft G or a hard G in ‘sagittarius’? Why is there a silent G in ‘sign’? Will we, in a thousand years, pronounce this sign like ‘Saittarius’? You’ll waste a lot of time this month pondering this.
If you’re called Max, and own a universal cruise line tour company, don’t seek immortality by removing your head from your body and placing it in a glorified street sweeper.
You’ve always liked water. Ever since you were a child, you loved to swim. You competed in the races, you learnt synchronised swimming, you’ve even learned how to dive. After 10 years of hard training, you just missed out on the try-outs for the British Olympic team. Suddenly, you’re rethinking your life, your aspirations, your goals, your hobbies. Why did you even like swimming in the first place? Your mind takes you back to a magazine you read years ago. We look further into the memory and there you are, magazine open on the horoscope page, reading the words “aquarius”, underneath the sign it reads that “water is beneficial to your shakra”. You fade out of the memory, anger in your chest. It had all been a lie, your skills, your dreams, your water loving shakra. You set fire to this newspaper. As you walk out of your swiftly burning apartment, you lose your name. You are no longer who you once were, you are no one. You never touch water again.
Your star sign is a fish. Sadly, you also look like a fish. Move back 10 spaces.
Image: istock (edited by Blanca Gonzalez Alba)