Your Monthly Horoscope

Shanda Leer is your favourite tipsy aunt at a wedding. Besides making every pizza personal-sized, her three talents are hosting, toasting and ghosting.


A fresh packet of Post-It Notes is your passport to freedom this month. Take all your intentions and colour code them, then paint your walls with these neon glimpses of the future. Don’t lick the glue off the back. If you can tear down at least one per week, you’re doing just OK. People have to be watching to be disappointed. Don’t lick the glue.


You place a high value on open, honest communication. Funny enough, most people—if not all people—feel the same way. Dig deeper to uncover what you truly desire. Maybe it’s someone who keeps their socks on during sex. Or a compliment from Janet at the office who always pretends she doesn’t notice your haircut. Be honest with yourself.


Satire is a dying art—everyone thinks they can make something funny out of nothing. It’s like when people try to use slang they heard on TV, but it’s wildly out of context and now that one interaction has shaped their entire world. That’s what happening with satire. Lying isn’t satire. This horoscope has nothing to do with you.


Tonight, we form a prayer circle. Link hands with those closest to your spirit and raise them to the sky. Call down the power of the universe to carry us through this season with little incident and lots of love. Remember these words and actions because it’s what will keep you sane when you’re coming down.


It’s time to take a stand and carve out your home in the world. Use every harpy along the way as a stepping stone across the river. Your feet will get wet but your cuffs will stay bone dry. Think back to the episode of The Golden Girls when Dorothy solved the murder mystery in only 20 minutes. “NOT NOW, MA,” she bellowed. You can Gil Bellows, too.


Now that you’ve taken the reins of the cow, steer her to the promised land. Park her under the apple tree and wait for gravity’s rainbow to strike. As you sit there, pull out a notebook and a Number 2 pencil to capture your thoughts. This is all dream, by the way, and you shit the bed.


If you’re looking to make a new home, Faith Moves Houses. Secure sub-prime financing and talk endlessly about its benefits to no one. Get down with payments and other such real-estate punchlines. Make up the spare room because I’m coming over for a few weeks. This is not a joke.


Take your baby by the hand and make her do a high handstand. Listen to Wang Chung’s deep cuts. Find yourself. Pour a drink. Sit outside and do nothing. Whisper in your baby’s ear that we’re here for a good time, not a long time. Dust off your shoes and pull up your socks. I think I’m a little drunk.


Have you recently pivoted to video? Do you like people to think you have it all together because you arrange your salads into sections even though you just have to toss it all? Does a set of copper bowls in your neighbour’s apartment fill you with envy, dread, and give you a boner all at once? Do you need to call me to explain how horoscopes work?


The greatest challenge you will face is resisting the urge to become a parent who makes jokes about needing to drink to deal with their kids. 

That’s it. God speed, lil’ doodle.


You are a mighty crab with pincers that can topple mountains. You looked beautiful dressed in a garlic butter sauce. You should only be boiled after you’ve been mercifully killed. You’ll float to the top. You’ll know when you’re done. You pull off the red and white tablecloth look to perfection. You wear the meal, it does not wear you. I’ll miss you.


If you can count to ten, you can do anything. If you’re anxious, wait in line for a fresh croissant. If you’re tired, get on your bike and head to the nearest brew pub. Don’t order anything just turn around when you get there. Call your aunt that you rarely speak to just to say hi. Sit in a dark room with no noise for 45 minutes and contemplate something dumb you said when you were in the fourth grade. Watch a bottle of wine evaporate.

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