CHICKENHEAD HOME

Hey losers! I'm Pam. After I lost my job, my health insurance, and my Prozac, the voices in my head came back, and now I can tell the future. Rad, huh?

 MARCH, 2004
When it comes to money, you can never have enough. Never! So start saving your funds for a rainy day and also... start casing playgrounds for brats with candy. And old women are great sources of free cabbage. Because later, when you get arrested, and they send you to the Big House, you're going to need a nest egg if you want to convince your cellmate that no, your hemorrhoid-ringed sphincter is not the gateway to Nirvana after all.
(mar 21 - apr 19)
It's time to clean out your fridge, Aries. And I'm not talking about any symbolic cosmic fridge; I'm talking about your actual fridge - the one that smells like rotting cow. And while you're sifting through cartons of gelled Kung Pao Chicken, withered apples, and fuzzy cheese, you'll find an old, half-eaten tuna sandwich that belonged to a beloved ex. Throw it away, Aries. Then make a new sandwich... for yourself. (This one should be symbolic.)

(april 20 - may 20)
Poor Taurus... it's going to be a tough month. You're going to contract a terrible case of warts and they're going to pop up all over your hands. What's worse is they're RAPPING warts - who will serenade everyone you meet with catchy little rhymes about your myriad sexual inadequacies. What to do? Soak your digits in Palmolive - and purchase three or four tubes of genital desensitizing cream.

(may 21 - june 21)
Sometimes the best way to deal with your insecurities is to beat yourself in the head with a shoe. With Mercury in retrograde though, you might want to up the ante this month. Wear a bucket (any old one will do) on your head, then run screaming headfirst into a wall. If this doesn't work at first, keep at it. Then check Loserscopes next month to see if I've come up with anything better.

(june 22 - july 22)
You know that thing you're really good at, that thing you've always been good at, that thing that has given you all that pleasure since you were a kid? Well, you're not really good at that thing. People just say you are to make you feel good. But thankfully, the one thing you are very good at is eating potato chips. So shoot for the stars and buy an entire Costco flat of Olestra-soaked potato chips and start munching. Munch, munch, munch... that's a good little grease vacuum!

(july 23 - august 22)
Jupiter is in the fifth house - and you know what that means: absolutely nothing to you, Leo. Now maybe if you were a nice sign... like a harmless Pisces... this would bode well for you. But it doesn't. Look for a month of mind-numbing tedium, binge eating, and irrational rants you'll deliver in your underwear to your neighbor for no other reason than those twelve Smirnoff Ices really went to your ugly, horsey-shaped head.

(august 23 - september 22)
It's time for that vacation, Virgo. But before you go, lend me your home entertainment system, OK? You see, I've been wanting to throw a big party for awhile - at your house, with all your great stuff, but without your annoying self. Man, it's going to be super crazy fun! I can use the blender, right? And can I use your bed sheets too? And how about that chippy you're dating? Can I also borrow twenty dollars?

(september 23 - october 23)
Look long and hard at your face in the bathroom mirror every day this month and repeat after me, "I am not a drunken slut." Say it as many times as it takes to believe it, Libra. Yes, even if it's 7,439 times. Then later in the month, you can quietly savor the irony when the zit-faced 18 year-old manager of the local Chuck E. Cheese starts buying you pitchers of Coors, and then finger-fucks you in the back seat of his decrepit Geo Prism.

(october 24 - november 21)
You'll get a call from your mother this month, and she'll inform you that you're actually adopted. Yes, it seems that your real parents were a pair of A.W.O.L. genetic experiments on the run, and they illegally mated to pass along their very special talent to you: the ability to make any object lukewarm. And now, suddenly, all your relationships make perfect sense! But don't start celebrating yet. I mean after all, you're still you.

(november 22 - december 21)
Let's count the reasons why you got passed over for that promotion: number one - you dress yourself like a retard hopped-up on cocaine pixie sticks. Second, the obscene racial jokes you tell round the coffee machine. And thirdly... you can't read. Otherwise, you're a valued employee... who is thankfully also an inconsequential non-entity and your boss barely notices you exist.

(december 22 - january 19)
It's spring and change is in the air. Except for you, Capricorn. You won't change at all. You're like a rock (but not a Chevrolet truck). But you're not exactly bedrock, which is solid and dependable. So you'll be more like a loose shale that turns into a cesspool when it rains, and doesn't ever really change, except that it bubbles filth every once in awhile and smells like some sort of exotic excrement.

(january 20 - february 18)
You know how John Lennon sang "Instant Karma's Gonna Get You"? Well, this month, Karma is not only going to get you, it's going to kick your self-important ass. Why, you ask? Remember that time in school when you pushed that kid off the curb by the bus barn and he fell down and got glass from a broken RC bottle all through his palms? Well that really ticked the Universe off. All I have to say is beware of falling moose.

(february 19 - march 20)
Your friends have a threshold in regards to your hippy-drippy cheeseball way of relating everything in life with tired Hallmark quotes. And that threshold has been crossed, Pisces. Just because Jupiter is in its fifth house doesn't mean your friends are completely immune to your candy-coated optimistic bon mots, like "If the world runs out of love, how will we fly hearts like kites?" So why don't you try shutting up before your friends start throwing themselves under trains?

©2004 | chickenhead productions | all rights reserved