It’s always refreshing when I read a new post from a blogger with a twisted mind (and I say that in a loving and supportive way, as my mind is exceedingly warped), and Marietta never fails to deliver. She has had me giggling for years, and a spotlight is long past due. In this lovely piece, Marietta provides a whimsical take on zoological predictions. Enjoy.
The Weekly Horrorscopes
Aquarius (January 20 – February 18) As the moon transitions into the house of Aquarius, you feel more despair than a Thomas Hardy novel. You eat your feelings, with a gallon of Cherry Garcia and watch Truffaut films. You will make a very unfortunate fashion choice, that gets you ridiculed by a group of Millennial’s at Starbucks. As Saturn aligns with Jupiter, your cat will plot to kill you. He hates you and will delight in your demise.
Pisces (February 19 – March 20) The sun’s solar flares will mean that your hemorrhoids are flaring up again. You will lose your job and be forced to sell decorative boxes and pose as a living statue. Your favorite necklace will fall behind the dresser and we both know you’re not going to move it. As the weather heats up, go outside and get some sun, because you are whiter than Mike Pence’s family reunion.
Aries (March 21 – April 19) The movement of Mars, indicates you will give no fucks this week. The dumpster fire that is your life, keeps raging and you get a big pimple on your forehead, even though you are forty years old. You give up on trying to meet someone and join a scrapbooking club. Be careful of upsetting a Pisces, because they have psychotic cats.
Taurus (April 20 – May 20) The advent of the new moon in Taurus, means you’ll receive some bad news. Your aunt dies, bequeathing you her collection of porcelain clown dolls. It will turn out, that one of the dolls is possessed and a priest will come to your house to perform an exorcism. The movement of Neptune may mean death, or you will have to listen to a rendition of, “Hotel California” played by a mariachi band. I don’t know for sure; this is a pseudoscience.
Gemini (May 21 – June 20) As Saturn transitions into the house of Gemini, prepare for some Alfred Hitchcock-level of weird shit. You will get hit by a couple on a tandem bicycle and have to go to the hospital. The couple will come to visit you and apologize for owning a tandem bicycle. While you’re in the hospital, you get a flesh eating bacteria, that has never been encountered before, so they name it after you. Unfortunately, the bacteria turns you into a zombie and you are now patient zero.
Cancer (June 21- July 22) The influx of Uranus, (sorry) means you will attend a hot dog eating contest, where one of the contestants is choking. You will perform the Heimlich maneuver on them incorrectly. As it turns out, the contestant wasn’t choking and dies from a punctured lung. You’ll go to prison for life, where you’re forced to knit sweater vests for the GOP. In prison, you find religion and get a tattoo that says, “Jesus is dope.” Watch yourself in the shower, because you’ll want to avoid an influx of Uranus.
Leo (July 23 – August 22) Your astrological map reads like a Nicholas Sparks novel, only without all the sex. Your stocks take a nose dive and you will lose all of your retirement savings. You get a roommate, who smells like Limburger cheese and plays the pan flute. Avoid Libra, Pisces, Virgo and people in general. Your house will become infested, because your roommate’s pan flute attracts a number of woodland creatures and a few Phish roadies. The burning of incense, your roommate does, to cover up the Limburger cheese smell, catches the drapes on fire. The only thing that is salvageable from the ashes is your vintage Rattan bar stool and the pan flute.
Virgo (August 23 – September 22) Saturn will dominate the house of Virgo this week. You’ll get stuck in an elevator with a mime and a kid taking pics to post on his Instagram, using the caption, #ElevatorMime. A classical arrangement of, “Easy Lover” will play over and over like a virtual horror film. When you finally get rescued, you miss your job interview, the only one in six months. You sell all of your possessions and move to Chicago to live with your sister. Avoid Capricorn, Scorpio and Lollapalooza.
Libra (September 23 – October 22) With the exit of Jupiter and the slow entrance of Mercury, you will get blackout drunk and sing, “What’s Up” by 4 Non Blonde’s at a karaoke bar. You give your number to an actuary, who promises to give you a free risk analysis, if you’ll go out with him. The actuary determines, based upon your lifestyle, that you should be dead by Thursday. When Thursday rolls around and you’re not dead, you celebrate by getting black out drunk at the same karaoke bar. You sing, “Can’t Fight this Feeling” by REO Speedwagon and immediately get banned for life.
Scorpio (October 23 – November 21) With Mercury in retrograde, you’ll be feeling generally shitty. You’ve now watched all of Downtown Abbey on Netflix and your dog refuses to go near you, because you are hygiene deficient. Cheetos stains cover your fingers and your breath smells like patchouli. After having a little too much wine, you crash your car into a Trader Joe’s store, where you destroy an entire isle of almond butter and cauliflower gnocchi. You get sued by Trader Joe’s and in lieu of monetary damages, you are press-ganged into being a brand associate, for their line of kale falafel hummus wraps.
Sagittarius (November 22 – December 21) After the Lunar Eclipse, you’ll start having reoccurring nightmares that you’re a Fox News anchor. On a whim, you decide to become a minimalist and throw all your possessions in the trash. You regret it the next day, but by then it will be too late. Your Delonghi Cappuccino maker will be put in a landfill, with all the E.T. Atari cartridges. The literary critics will pan your new novel as being a, “self-important pile of polished turds.” You go to IKEA, where you sink into one of their faux bean bag chairs and are never seen again.
Capricorn (December 22 – January 19) The transformation of Venus into the house of Capricorn, will create some friction between you and one of your coworkers. You’ll try to smooth things over with a clever pun about llamas, but as it turns out, no one likes puns about llamas, or puns in general or you in general. You move on to cause friction in your other relationships with friends on social media. Your great-aunt blocks you on Facebook, for telling her there’s a special place in hell for her thoughts and prayers. The conservative wing of your family will not invite you to any more family reunions, because you believe in science and have now been labeled as that, “Socialist Satan worshiper.” You will attend your nephew’s sixth birthday party at the pool, where you are beaten to death with an inflatable unicorn. The kids dispose of your body and your eternal resting place is underneath a bouncy house.
You can peruse more of Marietta’s work by clicking here. If you have comments specifically for Marietta, please be gracious enough to make them on the original post found here so Marietta can be assured of receiving your thoughts.
Note: The opening shot is another snap from “The Sweet Tooth Hotel” in Dallas. (I thought the disco balls looked vaguely planetary and therefore, sort of, fit the theme of this post.) I took quite a few pictures at “Sweet Tooth”, so brace yourselves for the onslaught.
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