Horoscopes For The Week Of August 17 2009

You fall for someone this week who reminds you of a lover from the past. Je ne sais quoi? C’est impossible to go back in time and experience that same frisson, but your interest in this person seems karmic and fated. Your romantic life reminds me of a Whittier quote: For of all sad words of tongue and pen, the saddest are these: "It might have been!" Go head first into this romance with all your amor or la pluie will fall from les yeuxie. (J’me excuse, je suis anglophone smoking french pot).

I’m looking at your planets and I get an overwhelming intuition that your desires will be met through starch consumption. So many horoscope writers ignore the fact that the moon’s trip through the 4th - 6th Houses involves the discovery of "food is love". Who gives a s**t if they just aren’t that into you? Have you ever chewed a piece of perfectly cooked baked potato squirting with cheese and sour cream filling? Are you on the floor with desire yet? What about sucking down a firm noodle with the just the right amount of sesame seeds and vegetable oil smeared on it. Are you peaking? Potato salad all wet with mayo in bed? Maybe some unexpected spice thrown in? You’re getting potato head this week Taurus. Enjoy.

You have regressed to the age of a preschooler. I have no accurate memories of those lost years, but I can imagine it was filled with tantrums, naughty chairs, and eating poop. Try to get through the week without sticking your fingers in a electrical socket or stuffing dirt up your nose. Last one to the sandbox is a rat!

Do you have a family secret that you’re dying to solve? Cancerians all over the world will be caught up in solving family mysteries. Expect long hours in Grandma’s creaky attic blowing dust off photo albums. You open it up and there’s the picture with Aunt Busy’s head cut out. Who would do this? Grandma? Why? I know Grandma hated Aunt Busy because her pie crust was firmer but this goes farther than pie jealousy. Then you hear someone coming up the attic stairs and you scramble under the maid’s old bed only to have a spider climb up your nose then you scream. Expect intriguing revelations concerning your ancestors this week.

Your back is up against the wall and you have to do some fast talking. I usually talk s**t when I’m in trouble, which confuses my opponent and buys me some time to think of other excuses that sound more like the truth. You on the other hand can’t talk s**t this week. People will see through your fibs. It’s a painful experience but pride goeth before the fall. You need to own up to some of the stupid things you said with a sheepish grin on your face and perhaps a bribe here or there. No one can stay angry at you for long, so the whole thing is only a small disaster.