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?

 JUNE, 2004
This month will be a trying one, to say the least. It's hot, humid, and you don't have the funds to keep the air conditioning running full-blast. You're so moist and sticky, it's no wonder you're turning into a bona fide schizophreniac. Your few moments of inner peace come late at night – after a few sips of old-fashioned moonshine and a little game we like to call "Russian Roulette." But be wary (especially Scorpio) of the nosy, red-haired brat next door. She's videotaping your comings and goings, and knows all about the weed.
(mar 21 - apr 19)
Your days operating as a high-priced unlicensed dentist will come to an end when Mercury moves out of the 8th house. Seems the police were tipped off by one of your "patients." Maybe if you had actually gone to dental school, you could have mustered more convincing equipment than rusty IKEA pliers and a bottle of brandy. Luckily, the cops in your town are hopelessly corrupt, and will let you off easy – providing that pretty mouth of yours does private parties.

(april 20 - may 20)
A change in the hypermatter surrounding Saturn's core will spawn recurring dreams of Christopher Walken chasing you through a trash-strewn Chuck E. Cheese. Weirdly enough, Mr. Walken himself is also having the same dream, except that his ends with you both setting fire to the novelty restaurant. And to add to the madness, the animatronic, oversized mouse has evil, x-ray eyes that enable him to read your thoughts. And just like Mr. Walken, he's seriously considering killing you.

(may 21 - june 21)
Gemini, you're the kind of sign that haphazardly throws together its future over a game of strip Trivial Pursuit and a pitcher of grape Kool-Aid and Everclear. So it seems appropriate that you took up shoplifting at the local A & P. And because you let the stock boy feel your nether regions, the whole of the store gives you the blind eye. Well, things will change when the new district manager figures out where all the missing T-bones have gone. And then you'd better watch out!

(june 22 - july 22)
You've noticed that it's getting harder and harder to get a good night's sleep. This is partially due to the moon moving into the secular orbit #7. However, it's also due to the nest of centipedes in your mattress. Each night after you slide into slumber, the leggy little varmints come out and feast until dawn at the fetid buffet which is your on your scaly haunches. You thought it was hives, but yes, it's really the work of thousands of little mouths. Solution? Burn down the house.

(july 23 - august 22)
The ancient druids had a special Summer Solstice toast that goes along the lines of... "dressing up one's penis to resemble a certified proctologist will convince any young lady to submit to a thorough fleshy endoscopy." You should heed this advice. True, it may be difficult to find the tiny novelty spectacles and lab coat to complete the illusion, but you're a take-charge fella, Leo. So get cracking, ass pirate!

(august 23 - september 22)
The premiere of yet another season of The Real World has prompted you to stop being polite and start getting real. But alas, your sudden change in behavior has not awakened MTV's interest in your petty little life – despite the fact that you continue to send weekly letters with "PAY ATTENTION TO ME" scrawled across the envelope in giant red letters. In desperation, you'll kidnap some chick who looks vaguely like Britney Spears – imprisoning her in your basement while you attempt to take over her life as a hot and horny teen singing sensation.

(september 23 - october 23)
All is fair in love and war. Unfortunately, you personally are neither in love nor at war. Except maybe with that bitch down the hall who keeps blasting Shaggy until four in the morning. And then she had the nerve to complain when you puked in her convertible those times you got a little mixed up after drinking six Cosmos. Man, what's her deal anyway? It's time she learned. And Libra payback's a serious bitch!

(october 24 - november 21)
You've learned after many hours of hard work and education that a pretty face is what actually gets you ahead. (Especially if you serve up a mean hummer.) Trouble is, it's hard to fellate your way to the top (or even the middle) if you can't even get your foot in the door. But no worries, as Scorpio moves into the third phase with Jupiter, the money phase, you'll find things going your way. Just watch your back, as some little 21-year-old college hussy will come and steal everything you've slurped for with one bat of a false eyelash.

(november 22 - december 21)
You've been spending all your time sitting in front of a fan, drinking Budweiser in your underwear. And that's rad. The shifting of the inner solar planets allows for your vortex of slack to become self-containing and promoting. However, you're missing a few important elements for a truly great summer: a kiddie pool in the living room (for watchin' TV in style), Potted Meat Snackaz!, and a good poking stick for changing channels when your clicker inevitably dies.

(december 22 - january 19)
There are many unanswered questions in life, often with explanations only supported by a living evil: why hasn't Connie Chung aged since 1983? How did George W. Bush end up in the White House? And where did that rash with the oozing come from? But soon you will come upon the answer to the most evil, antagonizing question of them all – which Olsen twin is, indeed, the hot one? Actually, it's Mary-Kate. Ashley's her middle-aged midget mother. And yes, they still sleep in the same bed together. Freakers.

(january 20 - february 18)
Everyone knows that when skinning a cat, the only real option is to chop off its head, hold it upside down, and rip the fur off in one continuous sheet. But being the slave to clichés you are, you have to find more than one way. And so Friday will find you ripping off smallish patches of fur, then arranging them in a lovely patchwork design. May I suggest adding a swatch or two of rat fur? No one has to know but you and me. Wink, wink!

(february 19 - march 20)
As Jupiter moves into retrograde, handouts will come easily for you – especially since your unemployment is running out and you'll soon be living on the street. Fortunately, it takes a cold heart to pass by a "Help Me Pay Off My Student Loans!" sign. Most people will pitch in a quarter or two, meaning you'll be pulling down better cash than you did as an editorial assistant at that bullshit web site. And here's the best part: now you can legally default on your credit card debt!

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