Originally published in Arthur No. 17 (July 2005)
By Jackie Beat
Jackie Beat is the gorgeous lead singer of the electro-trash band Dirty Sanchez. She has contributed to US Magazine, Movieline, LAWeekly, Total Movie & Entertainment, In Los Angeles, Planet Homo, NEXT, HX and has made rent by selling secrets about her famous friends to Star Magazine more often than she would like to admit.
(January 21-February 19)
Have you ever stopped to ask yourself, “Why do people hate me?” It’s because they’re jealous, right? Wrong! It’s because you’re ugly. Seriously. And I’m not talking “ugly on the inside” here, honey—you are full-on physically hideous. But smile, ‘cause at least God loves you! Not really. He hates you, too. After all, you are a constant reminder that even he has major fuck-ups occasionally.
(February 20 – March 20)
Does your car have an airbag? Other than your fat girlfriend, I mean. Look, I don’t want to scare you, but please buckle up and if you don’t have an airbag in your vehicle, duct tape a bag of Kraft marshmallows to your forehead for awhile. Make sure they’re Kraft. Don’t buy some no-name brand, you cheap bastard. This is no time to cut corners. After all, we’re talking about your brain here, dum-dum.
(March 21-April 21)
Pushing the limits of cutting-edge fashion is one thing, but making everyone around you constantly stifle laughs is just plain exhausting. Did you know that if you took all the beverages that have shot out of people’s noses when you walked into a restaurant wearing one of your ridiculous outfits it would fill an Olympic-sized pool? Or Kirstie Alley’s cereal bowl. Get it? She’s fat. The bowl is real big. Aw, forget it.
(April 21 – May 21)
If we had all the answers then every computer keyboard would have one less key. Why? Because then we would have no use for that pesky ol’ question mark, silly! Embrace life’s mysteries. Enjoy the fact that so much of this nutty world in which we live is vague, strange and unexplained. Remember, “no sense makes sense.” And if all of this seems like so much cryptic mumbo-jumbo please realize that legally this horoscope column has to be a certain length so… blah, blah, blah.
(May 22 – June 21)
You are a delight! Oh how I wish I could reach out from these printed words and just give you the warmest hug right now! Then I would wander into your kitchen and make you a cup of hot cocoa or a glass of ice cold fresh-squeezed lemonade (depending on the weather outside!). Next up would be a decadent, luxurious hour-long foot massage followed by a soothing avocado facial. Then I’d kill you with my bare hands, smear my naked body with your blood and disappear back into this magazine. And no one would ever know who did it. Scary, huh?
(June 22 – July 22)
Uh-oh. Someone’s been feeling downright crabby lately, no pun intended, Cancer the Crab. And that oh-so crabby someone is you, sourpuss! If you can’t turn that frown upside down, then turn your whole self upside-down by literally standing on your head, gloomy gus. The blood will quickly rush to your skull and in just a few short minutes you will feel high as a kite. And let’s be honest, being high equals being happy. If for some reason you cannot stand on your head then just take some drugs or huff some toxic household cleaning products.
(July 23 – August 22)
Sorry, no funny fake horoscope for you. You annoy me.
(August 23 – September 23)
Anger is just good old-fashioned Hurt with the volume turned way up. And you have huge speakers and surround sound, baby. Stop being angry. Let it go. Perhaps meditation and/or yoga would help. How about a much-needed get-away or at the very least a serene walk outdoors, gratefully savoring Mother Nature’s majestic natural beauty? And if none if this works, lock yourself in the bathroom and slowly cut into your flesh to remind yourself that you are indeed very much alive.
(September 24 – October 23)
The phone is going to ring in the next few hours. No matter who is on the other end of this call—your ex, your best friend, a telemarketer, the recorded voice of California governor Arnold Schwarzenegger or your mom—have sex with this person. This will set in motion a prophetic series of events that will eventually open a portal destined to lead you towards great wealth and happiness. But, if the caller is not yet 18 years old, this portal will resemble the radio-controlled bars of a damp, cold prison cell.
(October 24 – November 22)
There are tribes of savages who believe that photographs steal a part of a person’s soul. They are right. But what no one knows is that the same is true for drawings, portraits, sketches and even simple doodles and cartoons. You are beautiful and as such you have unknowingly been the model for more than your share of artists’ renderings over the years. Yes, it’s all coming back to you now: The art student in the park with the charcoal and the sketch pad, the unkempt guy at the Applebee’s bar with the crayon and the cocktail napkin. This finally explains why you have almost no personality to speak of. But hey, at least you’re beautiful.
(November 23 – December 21)
You’re in a rut. Your life has become predictable, repetitive and boring. Time to shake things up! Now I know how much you fear change, but relax. I’m not talking about moving to New Orleans or buying one of those adorable Mini Coopers, just a few little things that can instantly make life more exciting. For instance, the next time you’re whipping up a batch of chicken or tuna salad may I suggest you add a handful of slivered almonds and some golden raisins? Yum! And should you find yourself lying out in the sun, take the lemon wedge from your drink and spritz it into your hair. A few hours later—voila!—chunky, funky highlights!
(December 22 – January 20)
I’m tired. Please refer to Leo for your forecast. Thanks.