Your astrological week ahead, with Psychic Bob
Taurus (20 APRIL – 20 MAY)
You’ve made all the necessary work preparations before your holiday – assigning urgent projects to co-workers and informing clients of your absence, etc. Just need to drop that virulent strain of botulism into the water cooler and you’re good to go.
Gemini (21 MAY-20 JUN)
Sure, you could use that last bit of money to fend off your creditors or you could blow the lot on tasty cocktails with bits of fruit in them. What are they going to do, repossess your vomit?
Cancer (21 JUN-22 JUL)
OI! OI! SAVELOY! Sorry, I mean, dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…
Leo (23 JUL-22 AUG)
It’s called ‘Avengers Assemble’ presumably because ‘Chronic Masturbators and Sociopaths Assemble’ wouldn’t fit on the poster.
Virgo (23 AUG-22 SEP)
If you look up the word ‘gullible’ in the dictionary it will be the first time you’ve opened a book for at least three years.
Libra (23 SEP-23 OCT)
It’s amazing The Bangles had such a successful career when they didn’t even have the common sense to realise that during a manic Monday, making the bed could wait until they got home.
Scorpio (24 OCT-21 NOV)
This week Jupiter drives past your living room window in your car with your wife’s head methodically bobbing up and down in his lap. But no, you insisted you could beat him at rock-paper-scissors.
Sagittarius (22 NOV-21 DEC)
You work hard and you pay your taxes but where’s the video of your prolonged racist rants on the London underground?
Capricorn (22 DEC-19 JAN)
Honesty is usually the best policy, but owning a car in our part of town you may also want to include fire, theft and being driven though an off-licence window.
Aquarius (20 JAN-19 FEB)
No word from ITV about your soap pilot following the lives of bright orange farmers called ‘Emmerdale Winton’.
Pisces (20 FEB-20 MAR)
It’s terrible to watch a friend slide slowly into the jaws of alcoholism, especially when you’ve still got another three days on those poxy antibiotics.
Aries (21 MAR-19 APR)
During your road trip across the USA you came across a small, close-knit community of people who smoked furiously and wrote self-referential novels. You’ll never forget the simple folk of Amis country.