Leo, the Bear (only people born in soybean fields or on September 12): As a Leo, you are bold and intuitive, but also caring and whimsical. With such strengths, no Turkish prison cell can hold you long.
Joe-Jack, a local Disgrace (born to two people both named Claude): Joe-Jack is rising this week, thanks to dropping prices in stolen fertilizer and Sudafed. Try a new restaurant , maybe with a new love interest.
Seamus O’Flaherty, Patron Saint of Stereotypical Irish Catholics (born on a pool table): Witty and literary like all Seamus’, you will find the loss of your voice during the week deeply distressing. Don’t worry: Soon, you won’t even have a throat to keep it in.
Cancer, the Occasion for Coming Together as One (mostly crying, some light ‘shoulder-play’): As the days become shorter, Cancers will do well to stay together, preferably indoors, as most of the other signs have already been infected.
Insatiability (no known dates): You are a love cheetah. Handcuff yourself to a radiator before the U.S. Marshals realize their mistake.
Tin Jim, a Chimney Sweep of Base Extraction (both parents beaten by a Tory lord during conception): Things are finally looking up for Tin Jim. That is, if you count a brood of venomous coral snakes in your wheel-well as “things.”
Iceland, the Magical Elven Realm of Elves and Magic (born to people who sing in made-up falsettos): Soon all the shadows will melt away and you will be alone with your fear. If you contest it, though, the judge will knock $10 off of the fee.
Loretta, a Faded Dixie Charmer Wrapped in Calico-Print (family a grotesque nightmare, or itinerant kudzu sellers, or both): The stars indicate that you will run into someone from your past. But oh, my dear, how the years have worn you down like a salt-lick.
Satirical Horoscope, the Worst Punt Ever (Defeated and broken at birth, defeated and broken at death): A new opportunity is in your house this week. Remember, though, that a human’s flesh prefers to be addressed as “Sir” or “Madame” as long as that sweet blood flows.
Throwing Stars, a Real Investment (born at the exact moment of death of a beloved family pet): So what, you’ve been voted “Most Likely To Make An ‘Ejaculate Conception’ Joke At Graduation.” That’s just one more thing you have in common with the evil guy from “Gladiator.”
Pisces, the land of fish and fully-visible forearm veins (October 16 and also the day they invented twine): Mercury is in Pisces this week, proving that Mercury will pull the most insane shit just to get you to buy him Jim Beam. Fuck it: it’s only 12 bucks, and you’ll probably get to see his new four-wheeler.
Sofa King, In which I regress to eighth grade (parents confess regularly in the church of the Bomb): Be confident and zesty in the dance of life. After all, dancing is a lot like what you do now, but with less reference to things like “collateral damage” and “acceptable loss ratios.”