UnNews:Horoscopes - September 21st
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Sunday, September 21, 2014
- Libra (Sept. 23 - Oct. 22) - Riding up the escalator tomorrow might seem the perfect moment to dispose of a fart: the movement away from the scene of the crime, the background noise, etc. However, remember a cursory glance behind you to check the coast is clear is not enough: there might be a small child whose face is directly in line with your anus when you break wind.
- Scorpio (Oct. 23 - Nov. 22) - It's really hard to find that one special person. Especially when you insist on poop play.
- Sagittarius (Nov. 23 - Dec. 21) - This week brings you seven days closer to your destiny: a newspaper article ending in the phrase "before turning the gun on himself." (See right.)
- Capricorn (Dec. 22 - Jan. 19) - Regular sex is important to keep a relationship feeling vital. If you don't fancy it with your partner anymore, sex with someone else is a useful alternative.
- Aquarius (Jan. 20 - Feb. 18) - You spend the whole week trying to convince your friends that there is something called the shit box challenge.
- Pisces (Feb. 19 - March 19) - Your first day at work is a baptism of fire. Which is not good for a priest.
- Aries (March 20 - April 19) - You always feel embarrassed at parties when people ask you what you do, so you make a resolution: in the future you will lie about your job.
- Taurus (April 20 - May 20) - That was a bitter pill to swallow. Turns out it was a suppository.
- Gemini (May 20 - June 21) - Your idea to play an mp3 of a woman sobbing every time your overly-amorous neighbours get it on backfires, taking their lovemaking to new and disturbing places.
- Cancer (June 22 - July 22) - Your visit to a strip club is spoiled by the nagging suspicion that the girls are deliberately breaking wind in front of you.
- Leo (July 23 - Aug. 22) - The good news is you remember where you left your love egg. The bad news is, Papi has to lay that motherfucker now.
- Virgo (Aug. 23 - Sept. 22) - You sign up for a charity mastubatathon, with your friends sponsoring you per wank. Twelve orgasms in, you are completely spent, but it's the thought of those poor starving Africans' faces that gets you through to the baker's dozen.