Gemini (May 22 – June 21)
Home Depot Orange. Undershirt Ecru. Plum Forgot. Grew This Tomato Myself. Kid, your array of “dad hues” blew me the fuck away. Before I invest eight million dollars in this thing, I just have one question: Are we selling pre-ripped golf shirts, or extra-large cellphone holsters?
Cancer (June 22 – July 22)
You did the dishes last night. You’re certain of this. A bunch of things happened between then and now. You made eggs again, and the pan is in the sink again, looking exactly as it did twelve hours ago. You look at the pan, and it looks like last night’s pan—it’s the same, but different. Don’t wash it. Go ahead and leave it there. You’re on the brink of a major discovery. The world is fragile. You wouldn’t want to throw it off balance.
Leo (July 23 – August 22)
Inspired by TOMS and Warby Parker, Victoria’s Secret starts a long-overdue one-for-one donation program: For every bra or panty they sell, VS will donate a bombshell add-two-cups push-up bra or lace-trim cheeky panty to an impoverished child in a developing country—or, as VS put it, a developing child in an impoverished country. “These brave children need our support now more than ever,” the company says in a press release. “After all, they are doing the bulk of our manufacturing.” Third world hell breaks loose when Smith & Wesson follows suit with its “gun-for-gun” donations to Africa.
Virgo (August 23 – September 23)
Traveling by MetaBus is a mistake. It’s one thing to be the most self-aware economy bus line in the country—one whose ads read, “Gas and airfare what they are, you don’t have a choice!” and “WiFi? More like Why try!” It’s quite another to Spread the Self-Awareness (a company motto) by pulling over halfway through the trip and swapping the bus out for a dilapidated minivan swarming with live chickens. “Check your privilege, motherfuckers,” the driver barks into a megaphone. “Y’all complain about the outlets, this is what happens.” (In fairness, another of MetaBus’s mottos is Get What You Pay For.)
Libra (September 24 – October 23)
Yesterday, the streets were packed with revelers. Today, the offices are packed with workers. Somewhere in the middle, there you are, at the coffee shop, passing time on Facebook and waiting to go to bed. You’re neither a worker nor a reveler—you, indeed, are special.
Scorpio (October 24 – November 22)
Always more of a “fixed guy” when it came to fans, you swing staunchly pro-oscillation after a cannabic epiphany: Until a fan whirs in another direction, you can’t really appreciate when it’s like, on you, y’know? Sadly, your girlfriend has her own change of heart, and during the breakup cites the extensive thought you’ve put into hot air—as well as your refusal to “just install the damn window unit”—as proof that, big picture, you remain in the stationary camp.
Sagittarius (November 23 – December 21)
You’ve got a dog, but you’re out of dog food. You’ve got a cat, but you’re out of milk. You’ve got yourself, but you’re out of everything. Somebody here is going to have to starve, somebody here is going to get eaten alive, and somebody here is going to have to solve the riddle that decides the fate of the other two. Choose your destiny wisely.
Capricorn (December 22 – January 20)
In vague protest against Obamacare, you start going to a progressive new clinic called Medical Mashupz for all your remedial needs. Your gynochiatrist’s couch is more of a loveseat with stirrups, but her ears are as open as your legs. MM also houses the best damn Ear, Nose, and Feet doctor in the state—finally, someone who can treat your sinus and your fungus! You switch clinics, though, after an unlicensed proctophthalmologist insists on shooting a small puff of air into your butt.
Aquarius (January 21 – February 19)
You would get a motorcycle but they’re too dangerous. You’d get a bike but you’re lazy. You’d get a boat but you don’t have any money and you don’t know how to use one anyway. You’d go to the park but it’s either too far away or, if you really think about it, you’re happy enough on the couch. When you really think about it, you’re fine anywhere, so why bother leaving the house.
Pisces (February 20 – March 20)
Your love life hits rock bottom when you try dating a ruggedly attractive cable guy you found on OkCupid. “I’ll pick you up between 8 and 4,” he writes, not specifying AM or PM, before no-showing and rescheduling three weeks in a row through three different secretaries with three different accents. When it finally happens, the lunch itself is surprisingly painless, but then there are all these weird charges for things you didn’t even order.
Aries (March 21 – April 20)
You bought garlic-flavored toothpaste. It’s not working very well. There’s no mystery here—next time, buy mint.
Taurus (April 21 – May 21)
You lost your arm in the war. They tell you it’s on its way home, they’ve got a tracking number, it’s all sorted out. They’ve been telling you this for a long time now, and you rightfully feel skeptical. There are no easy answers here. Unless you have your own plane and your own tracking system and a lot of help from both strangers and friends, you’re going to have to keep on waiting.
Evan Allgood's work has appeared in McSweeney's, The Millions, LA Review of Books, The Toast, and The Billfold. He lives in Brooklyn and contributes regularly to Paste. Follow and maybe later unfollow him on Twitter @evoooooooooooo.
Tom Dibblee is Trop’s editor. His fiction has appeared in Glimmer Train and his nonfiction has appeared in Pacific Standard, the Los Angeles Review of Books, and the Point. He lives in Los Angeles.