a forecast for 16 - 22 July

Taurus April 20 - May 20
Take everything you hear this week with a grain of salt. Including this.
Which probably means you really need to take everything with a grain of something other than salt, like a grain of sand, which is considerably less tasty than salt and shouldn't be licked. That last bit you can take at face value, unless you've been made paranoid by our previous assertion that this should be taken with a grain of salt and now feel compelled to go and lick sand.

Leo July 23 - August 22
The world is your oyster.
Cracker. Oyster cracker. So don't get too excited, unless you have an unfeasibly large bowl of clam chowder.

Virgo August 23 - September 22
It will soon be your day in the sun, just be patient.
If you live in England you may take this news with the appropriate degree of shock.
Time to dust off those old plans for directing your legions.

Gemini May 21 - June 20
You really wish you'd spent more time meditating on the 'tree falling in the woods with no one around to hear it' koan when a tree falls in the forest and lands on your foot.
Judging by the response to your cries of "Ow! My foot!" no one hears the tree or you, thus solving the puzzle for you.

Capricorn December 22 - January 19
A bunch of fake bohemians (identifiable by their annoying conversations that usually involve the words 'capitalism', 'void', 'existentialism', and 'Starbucks') will sit down next to you and proceed to destroy your concentration on anything but how you wished you'd not forgotten to bring your croquet mallet down with you just in case a situation like this arose.

Cancer June 21 - July 22
You will feel the universal need to ring the unrequited Love of your Life and leave a passionate and poetic declaration of your Love (after the requisite fumbling and excuses for ringing that normally precede any proper declaration of anything substantial and the, in hindsight, stupid comment about a trick you'd seen a dog in the park perform which, come to think of it, might not have been a trick at all, as nicking a dozing picnicker's bagged lunch probably is more of an instinct thing for dogs as opposed to an acquired trick, which is a story without a point, you realise, and you comment upon that very thing, the irrelevance, not dogs learning how to steal food, as you say, and the ultimately unnatural segue into the main reason for your call, the declaration and such) on Thursday, which, on Friday, makes you wish the week were over already so you could get a new, not so horrifying horoscope.

Pisces February 19 - March 20
You wish jelly beans counted as vegetables this week.
Or any week, really, all of them. Because then you'd find being a vegetarian much easier.
Vegetarianism gets even more complicated when someone tells you that jelly beans aren't on the banned list for vegetarians. It's a bittersweet revelation, as you'd just finished burning all of your jelly beans.

Aries March 21 - April 19
Your life will resemble a film this week.
In that you'll be starring alongside Hugh Grant and Gwynneth Paltrow, and not that everything flips by at 32 or 24 or whatever frames per second and your floor is sticky with spilled Coke.
Say Hi to Gwynnie for me.

Libra September 23 - October 22
An astonishingly attractive member of the opposite sex will completely and utterly fail to notice you this week.
This is an improvement on last week, when the same kicked you while you were down, literally, when you bent down to pick up a two p coin you saw on the pavement.

Scorpio October 23 - November 21
Prairie dogs also do not have horoscopes. This is a little known fact, except by the citizen of Montana, in the United States, who knows this fact all too well, as he's the one who has to listen to the prairie dogs complaining about their lack of a horoscope all the time.

Sagittarius November 22 - December 21
You used to consider yourself above going to Starbucks until they bought out your local Post Office.
This has very little to do with the knowledge that you have seven days to live.
We'll explain next week. It's something to do with you pissing off Uranus with that incredibly lame joke you told last week.

Aquarius January 20 - February 18
You find cause to curse both Robert Boyle and housework when you get your arm stuck in your vacuum cleaner this week.
Kids that pass you in the street laugh and call you 'Vacuum Cleaner Person.' Kids can be so cruel.

[Horoscopes. Stick figure death! It's been around a while, but entertaining, nonetheless.]