Crystal Baws: May Horoscopes
ARIES
It's not you that's a bad loser, it's that everyone else is a bad winner. Will you ever win in the sexual marketplace? The charts say no. The charts are laughing at you, slapping me on the back and pointing and laughing at you.
TAURUS
You wake to find my pus-dripping sockets staring down at you, my steaming jaws slung with poison between dagger-like teeth, claws blackened with gypsy blood. I love you. I just have trouble expressing it.
GEMINI
Venus, your horrible mentor, enters your chart in mid-May right as you land that dream job at Sea World. Like a siren of myth she urges you into the realm of the out-of-character faux pas, culminating at the finale with your head being blown off like a firework-stuffed melon performing fellatio on one of the killer whales.
CANCER
Even if I thought you were the scum-sucking spawn of a writhing, pulsating ball of sewer rats, I wouldn't say that, because I'm a nice person.
LEO
How did nature get your head-shape so wrong? God must've let Jesus operate the skull-making machine when you were conceived. He was shit at making tables and by God he's even worse at fashioning human craniums. You look like Joseph Merrick after a whole summer at The Brian Harvey School of Driving.
VIRGO
Go jogging with a bottle of poppers up each nostril. Please. Just to see what happens.
LIBRA
You're thinking of shaving your glorious hair off? Do that. Then send me it. I'll wear the blessed locks. You can skulk around resembling a super-conducting ball bearing placed near a pile of iron filings.
SCORPIO
In May Mercury's testicle-shaped orbit makes sure dancing with you is like moving a fridge.
SAGITTARIUS
Mars scores whale steroids and enters Sagittarius like a brick fist this month, grabs your psyche by the gusset, tears off its spindly limbs like a daddy long legs, then tosses your dreams screaming into the sun.
CAPRICORN
Despite your best efforts, your healthy eating regime ends and your mouth becomes an event horizon for Greggs, your rumbling stomach a singularity of steaming hot gut treats and you find you can't pass a McDonald's without your digestive tract's high gravity pulling the entire stock of meat products through the glass at close to the speed of light.
AQUARIUS
If you have vomited a little further than other men it is by vomiting from the shoulders of giants.
PISCES
You find yourself somewhat out of pocket after ringing my 24/7 premium-rate tarot reading hotline. Don't ask the bill payer's permission beforehand, it's a trap. They don't want you to know the vital info I'll reveal to you about you dying in, perhaps, some avoidable accident or something at some point. The alternative: your mangled remnants will plummet headlong through a razorblade-lined, Barclaycard-swiping blood-slide to hell for an infinity of tortured teeth-gnashing. A £1.53/min phone call is very lucky.