Last night, my dreams were filled with mythical beasts trying to sell me life insurance. This can only mean... HorrorScopes!
Aries: A simple typographical error results in your receiving considerably more fudge than you can legally store.
Taurus: The answer is 'GIN'.
Gemini: At the last moment, you successfully honour your grandmother's last wishes to find a crematorium that plays dubstep.
Cancer: You investment bankers are all the fucking same, piss off! Jesus. Oh, what, you're a nurse? Fucking nurses! Piss off! Jesus.
Leo: Beware a suspicious, dark man in a hood. He bodes you ill.
Virgo: Watch out if you meet a Leo this month - they is *WELL* racist, blud.
Libra: This month, you will observe that Virgos have a right chip on their shoulder about some people. Pricks!
Scorpio: Beware the Slender Man.
Sagittarius: Oranges are a delicious, natural food, ideal for almost any situation. But please stop having sex with them.
Capricorn: Childhood disagreements haunt your week when you are spectacularly beaten up by toddlers.
Aquarius: You are called afore the Elven Lord. He is vexed and demands to know why you have been "dissin his flava an ting".
Pisces: A jury of your peers is unanimous in finding you guilty of butt-fucking a triceratops, though many seem impressed.
The HorrorScopes wisdom has gushed forth and my facemeats tire. I withdraw to consume a rich soup made from the hate-glands of a moth.