Now that you’ve had a few weeks to shake off that horrible 2015, and reset yourself for a new, better you, Bitter Astrologer is here to tell you that your next year is going to be total shit. But hey, it’s not your fault you’re a flunkie asshole, because PLANETS. Here’s how your year will shake out.

INYF, Aires. You are right, everyone should love you more than anything. Anyone who doesn’t is either jealous of you, or really jealous of you. Your melodramatic tantrums won’t work this year, kid. It’s time to pay the bill for all of the ridiculous ME ME ME bullshit you pulled in 2015. It doesn’t matter that they’re all stupid bitches envious of your awesomeness (because you actually are better than everyone, right?).

INYF, Taurus. Congrats on being so goddamn boring that nothing is going to happen for you this year. And here’s the rub: you like it that way. You’ve got it all figured: work, eat, sleep, fuck. Most interesting thing for you in 2016: they’re going to come out with a new and improved version of your favorite instant mac and cheese (now flavored with salt!), but you’re not going to like it. Quelle surprise!

INYF, Gemini. Divorce, living will, buying a house. You can hardline those decisions , no problem. But ask if you want the midnight blue or navy blue towel set, and the voices in your head engage in all out war. This year is full of little decisions that will drive you to drink, or a nervous breakdown. Essentially, this year is a repeat of the last 100 years. Just make up your mind already. We’re sick of waiting on you.

INYF, Cancer. Oh, you poor little misunderstood thing. So soft and loving, and the world just mistreats you. Never mind that you manipulated every situation to blow up in your face. This year, you get to try a new tactic: assume that you’re not being fucked with, and you might actually make a few real, true friends. Or just go back to your ambiguous human chess game.

INYF, Leo. Keep defending your position, even if it means total destruction. People need to respect you. If you waver a bit, you will lose too much face, I get it. Even though you’re wrong. You’re naked, you twit. Everyone knows you have no clothes. This next year, choose if you want to have everyone laughing at you, or just admit you’re wrong and get on with it. Don’t worry, lion-man, you will still be worshipped.

INYF, Virgo. Everything. in. its. right. place. Including your feelings and how others get to feel for you. It’s a wonder anyone has the patience to deal with your control-crazy stepford version of living. Take off the Spanx this year and loosen up, or else someone else will force you to.

INYF, Libra. You’re on Facebook to be ironic. Your artist’s statement reads like Derrida in broken German. God forbid someone actually see you for who you are. You are so layered in your own bullshit, you actually think you’re real. This next year: continue on your same self-gratifying cycle to keep yourself separate, or maybe, *shock*, simplify and dumb it down to who you really are. I’m not betting on it, but jeezus, you could have a really great year if you just get over yourself.

INYF, Scorpio. Violet “miss unsinkable” Jessop survived three serious boating catastrophes (including the Titanic). She was buried at sea at the age of 83, a beautiful middle finger to the waters that tried to drown her three times. This next year, your jealous paranoid brain (how many times do you check your lover’s phone for cheating text messages?) won’t ruin everything good in your life, for the first time in years. How’s that for a middle finger to the universe?

INYF, Sagittarius. Blah blah peter pan kid at heart blah blah. This next year, you won’t have to grow up, but you will be forced to recognize your age. You won’t get to whine your way to what you want, and your charm won’t get you out of the fact that sometimes you just don’t know when to shut up. So don’t grow up, but accept that you’re 80 and have arthritic knees; you’re not going to be the next olympic snowboarder.

INYF, Capricorn. Yes, the neighbors did notice you didn’t take your mail in for two days. And your co-workers did note that you wore the same pair of shoes two days in a row. And everyone you walk by knows that you skimped and used Nice n’ Easy to get that hair color this week. Because you’re so important, everybody cares about every thing you do and judges you for it. This next year, it’s more keeping up with the Joneses.

INYF, Aquarius. Astrologers generally say that you’re a tech head, always at the forefront of what’s up and coming. Well, most astrologers don’t get it. You’re a damned hermit, terrified of anthing that will invade your oh-so-precious private space. Drones are here, water-head. This next year, make your blog public. Take the tape cover off the camera on your laptop. Nobody cares about your private life.

INYF, Pisces. Your Eeyore-Jesus crap is tired and worn out. You are not the only one who sacrificed. You’re not the only one who suffers. Now go ahead, manipulate that into something to make sure that it’s not your fault but you take full responsibility for anyway. This next year, you can nail yourself to the cross again. And again. And again. Get up and start doing something or people with just start everything by handing you a hammer and nails.

Think everything I say is bullshit? Me too! Want me to predict your future? Talk me up or tell me off: Laura Connor, your bitter astrologer.

[Post image via Shutterstock]

The post Bitter Astrologer: Because It’s Not Your Fault. January 22-28, 2016 appeared first on Bitter Empire.