Irregular Horoscopes for August 25, 2025
(The stars are drunk on melted popsicles and the scent of inflatable pool vinyl. The constellations have shed their dignity like a sun-burnt tourist shedding layers of aloe-soaked regret.)
â™ Virgo (August 23–September 22) You will alphabetize your regrets and put them up for auction them. A child will ask you what clouds taste like, and you will answer “bureaucracy.” You will be correct. You will also be banned from the county fair.
♎ Libra (September 23–October 22) You will fall in love with a mirage. It will ghost you. You will write a breakup sonnet in sidewalk chalk and receive a standing ovation from a group of feral cats. One will become your life coach.
â™ Scorpio (October 23–November 21) You will win a staring contest with the sun. Your retinas will file for divorce. You will reinvent yourself as a nocturnal philosopher who only speaks in riddles and pool noodle metaphors.
â™ Sagittarius (November 22–December 21) Your attempt to hitchhike via inner tube will be spiritual, soggy, and sponsored by a local bait shop. You will find enlightenment in a gas station freezer aisle.
♑ Capricorn (December 22–January 19) You will start a side hustle selling artisanal sand. Your clientele will be exclusively imaginary. You will host a TED Talk titled “The Ethics of Flip-Flops.” It will be banned in three countries.
â™’ Aquarius (January 20–February 18) You will invent a new form of summer communication involving popsicle stick semaphore. It will catch on briefly among avant-garde librarians. You will be interviewed by a sentient sprinkler.
♓ Pisces (February 19–March 20) You will write a love letter to humidity. It will respond with a restraining order. You will join a synchronized sweating team that becomes a regional champion. Your legacy will be moist.
♈ Aries (March 21–April 19) Your attempt to grill a watermelon will go poorly. A stranger named “Todd” will offer unsolicited advice about your aura, which smells faintly of citronella and unresolved ambition. Avoid all decisions involving inflatable furniture.
♉ Taurus (April 20–May 20) You will discover a hidden talent for competitive hammock napping. Your dreams will be sponsored by a defunct soda brand from 1993. Someone will mistake your silence for wisdom. Let them.
♊ Gemini (May 21–June 20) You will host a backyard séance for discontinued snack foods. The ghost of Planters Cheez Balls will whisper secrets about your ex. You will nod solemnly and eat a bug by accident. Consider that a metaphor.
♋ Cancer (June 21–July 22) You will become emotionally attached to a beach umbrella. It will betray you in high winds. Your revenge will be poetic, involving break dancing and a kazoo. You will cry, but only in cursive.
♌ Leo (July 23–August 22) You will attempt to start a mailing list based on SPF worship. Membership will peak at three: you, a beaver, and a confused mailman. Your charisma will be undeniable. Your sunscreen rituals will be televised.
For additional horoscopes from hell, explore the full archive and see just how deep the cosmic rabbit hole goes.
The preceding is satire.
Straight up, Skippy. No warranties are expressed or implied. For life advice, try a professional. For investment tips, try a dart board. For salvation, the gentleman in the robe has been handling that portfolio for 2,000 years.