Monthly horoscope for July
They say that all that glisters is not gold (well Shakespeare said that, everyone else says glistens) and this month you will have your hopes raised to the highest heights of hopefulness, only to be savagely dashed on the boulders of despondency. With the Sun in opposition to the Daily Mirror this June you there will also be ructions on the home front culminating in an elderly relative getting you in a cross-face chicken wing wrestling submission hold. Those that forget the pasta are doomed to reheat it.
July brings big trouble for you Aquarius. Having inadvertently stumbled upon a government plot to feed benefit claimants with a ‘soylent green’ type product made of ground up immigrants you will be hounded by special branch, the FBI, the KGB, GCHQ, the DOD and the RSPCA (who it turns out are so far undercover that none of them even know they work for the secret service). Towards the end of the month you will also, somewhat harshly, get fired from your job as a calendar designer simply for taking a day off.
As Neptune, your ruling planet swims off into the sunset you will be beset by health issues, particularly skin problems and will contract shingles, eczema, psoriasis, hives and nappy rash. This will drive Venus, the planet of love, right out of your primary house because I’m afraid the only way you are going to get laid looking like that is by crawling up a hen’s bottom and waiting. Attractiveness is such a transitory quality. One day you’re the best thing since sliced bread. The next, you’re toast
What do you get if you cross an Aries with a piston full of oil? A hydraulic ram. This July you will buy some bagpipes off a man with pierced nipples. In fact that’s not all he’s got pierced and if you were to see him in the shower you would think he’d had a nasty fishing accident, but I digress. There will be some false hope on the financial front when you think you spot a genuine Stradivarius violin at a car boot sale but when you take it to the auction house you are told in no uncertain terms that genuine Stradivarius violins are not made of plastic or signed with a green felt tip pens.
This July Mars becoming trine with mercury will grant you boundless energy. Most people would balk at completely redecorating the house in a weekend but you will not only manage that but also discover a cure for dengue fever and invent an alternative to the internal combustion engine that can travel three hundred miles on a cup full of lard. Not everything you touch will turn to gold, however, and cutting your own hair after half a dozen margaritas will be a cause of some regret for many weeks to come.
Ahh dear gullible Gemini. You will be very concerned at the moment that you might have accidentally become a cannibal because someone told you that shepherd’s pie was made with real shepherds. You needn’t worry too much though, most of the time they pad it out with horse meat. This month you will be giving some through to starting up a vegetarian steakhouse that only sells salad and chips…. Don’t! It is bad luck to be superstitious.
Try not to lower your self-esteem still further this month by thinking you are no use for anything, even if is true. A bald man from Norfolk will spread marmalade on his head this July. Also this month and for equally obscure reasons you will decide to attempt to be the first person to cross the Solent on a raft made out of live ducks. Make sure you have enough bread with you or you will not be able to pay the bills. On the plus side, your impersonation of an Oompa Loompa being eaten by a rhinoceros will get you through to the quarter finals of Britain’s got talent.
July is definitely a time for change but first you need to work out what it is you really want. It would be typical of you impulsive Leos to paint the entire house red, only to decide ten minutes later that it would have looked better green. In fact I know a Leo who once went into Waterstones and asked if they had any books on how to stop impulse buying. When he was told that they did, he immediately bought seventeen copies. Ironically you will also get stung by a bee at Griffin Park this month and if you do not understand the irony of that then (in common with most Leos) you know nothing about football.
Things are looking up this July for you virginal Virgos as Venus starts to approach the house of the rising sun. Now is not the time to languish indoors watching old Norman Wisdom films. Now is the time to be out frolicking naked in your local shopping centre whilst playing the euphonium. If nothing else it will certainly get you noticed. You will also embark on a phase of reading books such as ‘One Hundred Secrets of Successful People’ where you will learn such gems as ‘One of the secrets to success is knowing who to blame for your failures’.
The Kickstarter project for your latest idea, waterproof teabags, will fail to reach its target (as did your previous two brilliant ideas, non-stick Sellotape and inflatable dartboards). There will be a total eclipse of the sun this month but since it will only be visible standing on a stepladder in Antarctica, no one is going to get to see it. It would, however, be a good time to have a haircut and a Brazilian waxing. Towards the end of the month you will be chased down Putney high street by a swarm of bees. No man is an oil can.
This July spare a thought for those that are out trying to hypnotise trees. Towards the middle of the month a ginger haired ukulele salesman will offer to rub marmite into your chest. The medical benefits of this procedure are, as yet, still unproven and I can think of better ways of spending fifty quid. A chance encounter with a yeti on Clapham Common will lead to an unplanned journey to great tossingford (in Norfolk). Take particular care towards the end of the month to avoid getting your wedding vegetables caught in a barrel organ.
Be careful not to spread yourself too thin this month and avoid trying to put a finger in every pie, not least because it can get quite messy. With Venus ( the planet not only of love but also money) about as far away from Sagittarius as it can possibly get this month, you will find yourself not only on short rations but also as broke as the Ten Commandments. As that great philosopher Conan the Barbarian once said, ‘contemplate that on the tree of woe’. You might also be rushed to hospital with a suspected ruptured kidney this month but it will transpire that you just eat too much beetroot.