You can’t break your mom’s back by stepping on a crack, but, this week you learn the hard way that you can break it by focusing so much on avoiding stepping on cracks that you inadvertently bump into her and knock her down a flight of metal stairs. Your unlucky demon is the one that every once in awhile creates that feeling you saw something move behind you in the mirror.
There’s a 70% chance you’ll be able to bench press 550 pounds this week, but, there’s an 80% chance that attempting to bench that much will rip apart both of your shoulders, permanently damaging your rotator cuffs. There’s a 90% chance you’re too much of a pussy to risk serious bodily harm into order to accomplish something monumental. There’s a 100% chance I don’t believe in you this week. Your unlucky demon is the one that makes that weird noise you can’t explain that comes from the living room sometimes when you’re about to fall asleep.
The first time you see a stranger do something really stupid in public this week, like wear sunglasses indoors, or ignore their obnoxious, screaming child, or chew with their mouth open, I want you to slap them across the face as hard as you can. We’ve grown too tolerant as a society. Time to re-establish some decency, Gemini. Your unlucky demon is the one making you infertile right now.
I’m tired of how judgmental you’ve been lately, Cancer, and I think it’s important that you stick your tongue in a cat’s asshole by Friday at the latest. Then, every time you start getting a little judge-y, I want you to think about feeling some kitty colon on your tongue. If that won’t keep you humble, I don’t know what will. Your unlucky demon is the one you’ll french kiss in that furry little poop tunnel.
I know how important it is to you to get your name into the Guinness Book of World Records, and, I just figured out how to do it. Eat nothing but Cheerios, until you’ve eaten one million Cheerios. This definitely hasn’t been done, and, I’m pretty sure the people at Cheerios will give you a lifetime supply of Cheerios, which will be really nice for your friends and family who still like Cheerios. After this feat, you won’t be able to smell a Cheerio without puking into your mouth. Your unlucky demon is the one constantly trying to convince you to trap David Duchovny and keep him in a pit for your own personal amusement, which will largely consist of re-enacting classic X-Files scenes. It’s okay, I hear it too.
Write a bunch of poetry this week. It can be relaxing, and fascinating to see what can pour out of your sub-conscious. Then on Sunday, throw it all away. It’s garbage. All of it. Sappy, overly-sentimental, and contrived. You make me sick this week. Your unlucky demon is the one watching you from the shadows as you read this.
I once heard an urban legend about a man who died from malnutrition after eating nothing but Ramen for months. Don’t know if it’s true, but, I do know a maniac is going to kidnap you this week and feed you nothing but turkey hot dogs for two years. I’m sorry. Your unlucky demon is the maniac who kidnaps you this week.
Scorpio: Buy 10 ant farms, a brown robe, a wooden staff, and a white wig/beard combo on Monday. Pretend to be God the rest of the week. Lucky bastard, this week is gonna kick ass for you. Your unlucky demon is the Devil who’s going to battle you for possession of the ant’s souls this week.
There’s something wrong with your nipples this week. They’re too small or something. Or maybe they’re not long enough. I don’t know. Something bugs me though, that’s for sure. Get ‘em checked out. Get your nipples checked out. Your unlucky demon is the kind that fucks up someone’s nipples and ruins them. Just totally ruins them.
You’re gonna think a lot about unicorns this week. Which would be great if you were an eight year old girl, but, you’re not. You’re gonna want to buy some unicorn t-shirts, a few porcelain figurines, and a key chain. If you do that, I hope one of those imaginary unicorns you can’t get out of your head flies down and fucks you, because, no one else will. Your unlucky demon is a unicorn. Don’t let those cute posters fool you. Unicorns were born in a lake of fire.
You’re going to be Johnny Cash this week. Well, not literally, but, damn close. You’re going to play simple melodies on an acoustic guitar, you’re going to sing in a deep, monotone, world-weary voice about the down and out corners of American life, and, you’re going leave your family for a woman named June Carter. Take a moment to feel sorry for women named June Carter this week, they have it the worst. Your unlucky demon is Merle Haggard.
A strange millionaire is going to will you a house this week. It’s going to have a big open kitchen, with rough-cut stone floors, a balcony with an amazing view of the ocean, a giant open shower in the master bathroom with a huge tub for two, and a giant yard for children to play in, complete with both a hot tub and a pool. There’s only one catch. You’re never allowed to remove any of the art from any of the walls, and, this house is also home to forty poster-sized prints of an insane one-eyed homeless man staring into the camera with more murder than any one eye should be capable of holding. Drink a lot of ginger ale this week. You’re stomach is going to be tied in knots while you try and decide if you can handle your dream/nightmare home. Your unlucky demon is the dead millionaire who’s watching you struggle in the game he waited a lifetime to play.
Be sure to check out Dan Cummins’ new podcast Fired Up here!