this month by Ninja Bottanie 

Good afternoon sweet peppers, I’m Ninja Botanie, and here are your horoscopes for tomorrow, whichever day you’re reading this. Even though the future starts today, there’s no remedy like the expectation of something wonderful that’s going to happen tomorrow. Let the universe correct your expectations. Enjoy your tomoroscopes.



The fragile heavens do not make promises: The moon is in Jupiter’s pocket, Mesarthim is getting gamma radiation poisoning, and we’re all heading straight for a super-giant black hole. If you knew that the world would go to pieces tomorrow, would you still plant an apple tree? Or would you panic like everyone else.


Yesterday is but today’s memory, and tomorrow is today’s dream. So, here’s the dream: Virtual chatting on your new iPhone 10 with your virtual friends about your iPhone 10. Socialising on Facebook. Living your dream of being an artist on Instagram. Finding a new job on LinkedIn. Remote learning and online degrees. Paying for the online degrees using online banking. Ordering stuff you might need one day from Amazon. Having sex with an AI who doesn’t love you but who will do whatever you want. This is perhaps what Aldebaran and Pleiades meant when they said the future was bright and/or technology would be the rise and then fall of civilisation as we know it.



Hello gemmy, the worst is probably over: Sirius’ eyes are twinkling and there’s a call for hotdogs somewhere in the galactic distance. If you believe that tomorrow is another day, you’re not wrong. But also, don’t kid yourself that that’s deep. Just get a hotdog and go from there.


Hello Little Fishy in a Big Water, “The best preparation for tomorrow is doing your best today.” Considering that you’re wasting time reading horoscopes, not looking great is it. Why not completely surprise yourself! Get on a plane to an unexplored land, sit cross-legged in the desert, knock yourself out with your shoe, and wake up with no idea what happened yesterday. Surprise!


Virgo’s brightest Grandmother star, Spica Spica, has seen it all before. But she’s still baffled, just like your own grandmother will be tomorrow when you explain to her that you spend all your time watching videos of cats and arguing with strangers.


Hello Leo. The deneboh-lala tells me that regret is eating you up. But don’t fret. Yesterday is not ours to recover; like everything else it belongs to the rich, the Chinese, or Amazon. Tomorrow’s not looking great either, unless homeless aliens come down and help us put things in perspective by waging war.




As the superior starsign, your tomorrows can only get better. The days will become longer. Life will get sweeter. Love will get stronger. And jam donuts will get jammier.





“The past is a foreign country. As for tomorrow, they can go fu*k themselves as well.” Sleaves Crosley (jazz twat).




Hello Scabby Crabby. Aries has been stuck between a rock and my heart, which means that the Beta Cranky star of Cancer left her hat at a party last night. What the feather?! Exactly. No one’s going to be around to help you with your maths project tomorrow. Future Scabby Crabby problem. Forget it.


Hello Aquarius. What. A. Week. Things are going great, Ganymede has been winning some cup-slinging competitions, and our galactic neighbour Andromeda is celebrating someone’s wedding. But remember, the good times of today are the sad, damp reflections of tomorrow’s runny nose. Why not put down your phones and cameras, soak up the real thing, and let it spill out of you little by little instead of resorting to jpeg brain-fizz highs.


Hello Capricornichon. As a once great man once said, “Tomorrow is only found in the calendar of fools.” We’re all fools then, because that’s what a calendar is. There’s only 79 days left until you can start filling in your new diary for 2019. Yayyyy how’s that feel fool.