TAURUS: This month, you'll always be able to find the remote, the cordless phone, your keys, and your private parts. April Fools! You're still disgustingly absentminded and have a massive gut.

GEMINI: Using your last three vacation days to re-grout the bathroom, as well as marrying your college drinking buddy, were both excellent ideas. April Fools!

CANCER: You just woke up from chaperoning the Boy Scout camping trip to find you've soiled your sleeping bag. April Fools! It wasn't you. It was the platypus you invited to your tent for a nightcap.

LEO: Squeezing into your high school cheerleading skirt is totally NOT hazardous to your health. April Fools! Somebody get some Vaseline and a crowbar and some dynamite and the Jaws of Life and a couple of chainsaws and some oxygen. Oh, and a camera.

VIRGO: Your grown son will NOT move into the basement and your husband will NOT move in with that gal who has the rhinestone dimple piercings and works the Sonic drive-thru and your mother will NOT move into your guest room. April Fools! I'll start packing for your move to the asylum.

LIBRA: Of course you're still young enough to wear a bikini at the beach. April Fools, Granny! Here's a Hoveround!

SCORPIO: For Easter, your husband will give you a Dyson vacuum and a round of applause. April Fools! Make that a Dustbuster and the clap.

SAGITTARIUS: You're the bachelor sign of the zodiac. April Fools! I meant creepy-old-man-at-the-end-of-the-bar-wearing-a-Jimmy-Buffet-shirt-who's-covered-in-suspicious-sunspots-and-drugstore-cologne sign of the zodiac.

CAPRICORN: Uranus is moving through Capricorn. April Fools! I meant, candy corn is moving through your anus.

AQUARIUS: If you have to watch one more episode of iCarly, you'll load a shotgun and go running through your neighborhood. April Fools! You already did that last week during The Suite Life of Zack and Cody marathon. How's that ankle monitor treating you?

PISCES: You're getting audited by the IRS. April Fools! You’re getting audited by Scientologists.

ARIES: You'll go into Gymboree Play & Music a well-meaning, albeit somewhat emasculated, suburban dad in a fleece jacket and come out a homicidal misanthrope carrying a $12 Play and Learn with Bubbles! book.

TAURUS: You'll go into the bathroom for five minutes of peace and come out after 15 unproductive seconds, wielding a toilet brush and threatening to give your kids "something to really scream about."

GEMINI: You'll go into Target for three pairs of toddler socks and a large jug of Windex and come out with: seven bulk-size jars of Kit Kats; a floral bikini from the Juniors department that might have fit you in fifth grade; 13 pairs of toddler socks; some porch cushions guaranteed to make you look really hip (that is, if you actually had porch furniture); a couple of hard-to-find Charlie and Lola DVDs that will, undoubtedly, give your daughter a British lilt; six wicker baskets that might fit perfectly on your pantry shelf but most likely won't and you'll never return them but instead probably just throw them in your sister's garage sale next summer; an US Weekly featuring Reese and Jake's breakup; an impulse Diet Coke from the checkout fridge; and -- oh, shit! Do you have early-onset Alzheimer's or is your head just in your ass? -- not that large jug of Windex.

CANCER: You'll go into your doctor for a pap smear and come out with tear-stained cheeks, a box of Kleenex, a prescription for Zoloft, and a pamphlet on tummy tucks.

LEO: You'll go into the bar for a couple of beers with the guys and come out seven hours later in your boxers, searching madly for your iPhone so that you can call the Taco Bell chihuahua and ask if they still have the Volcano Nachos on the menu. And -- oh yeah, ladies -- who's coming to the gun show?

VIRGO: You'll go into the PTA meeting with a couple of concerns about a certain parent and come out on a stretcher.

LIBRA: You'll come into your house, take one whiff, and burn rubber to who-knows-where, you're just going to drive until that stench leaves your nostrils. Hell, it may require smoking half a pack of Camels while you listen to Rush's Hemispheres, but if that's what it takes, that's what it takes. Don't count on me for dinner.

SCORPIO: You'll go in to the J. Crew dressing room with seven pairs of jeans suggested by that skinny bitch sales assistant who insisted "matchstick" was not the same as "toothpick" and come out with some of those Thriller contacts in your eyes hoping to bitchslap that girl to last Thursday with a ballet flat.

SAGITTARIUS: You'll go in to the pediatrician with a kid who doesn't know he's getting a shot and come out with a kid who's getting a new bike and ice cream and maybe a diamond-encrusted set of Transformers, or, I dunno, maybe a scooter made of rubies.

CAPRICORN: You'll go in to see Alvin and the Chipmunks: The Squeakquel and come out a heroin addict.

AQUARIUS: You'll pull in to the Wendy's drive thru for your dry cleaning and leave with a Frosty, but only after trying to make a bank deposit.

PISCES: You'll go away for a romantic weekend with your husband and come home pregnant.

Our February

ARIES: You'll get halfway through an overcooked lobster tail before a call from the sitter asking where you keep the Shop-Vac.

TAURUS: You'll get two egg rolls into a Pupu Platter before a call from the sitter asking where you keep the rubber gloves.

GEMINI: You'll get three bites into your Dover sole before a call from the sitter asking where you keep the leafblower. And the Benadryl. And a waterproof mattress pad.

CANCER: A couple of sips of your cosmo before a call from the sitter asking if your health plan covers dental. And mental. And the neighbor's Mercedes.

LEO: Fuck it. We're staying in this year. It'll be romantic. I promise. Just let me just get the kids bathed.

VIRGO: And let me get them into their pajamas. And let me Q-tip their ears. And maybe clip their fingernails. And toenails.

LIBRA: Tell you what, Honey. While I'm up here doing the bedtime routine, why don't you go on and put the lasagna in the oven. Oh, and let the wine breathe. What? I'm just reminding them to brush their teeth. What's that? Yes. It's in the fridge. The fridge! On the third shelf. Behind the milk. The MILK! THEGODDAMNEDMILK!

SCORPIO: For the love of all things sacred! Behind the milk! What are you? Blind? Deaf? Certifiably insane? And as for you two, I am not reading another book. Get in bed this instant!!! Your father and I are trying to have a romantic goddamned dinner!!!

SAGITTARIUS: OK. One more book. But not that one. What? This one? The Giving Tree? The Giving Tree?! Why don't you just go on and smother me slowly? It's so sad. It's about someone who gives and gives and gives until she's nothing more than a withered old stump.

CAPRICORN: I am NOT crying. Now turn out the lights.

AQUARIUS: NOW!! AND QUIT YELLING AT EACH OTHER!!! DON'T YOU KNOW WE DON'T YELL IN THIS HOUSE?

PISCES: Is that the smoke alarm?

ARIES: Resolution: Help your husband clean out the closet. More Likely: Help your husband come out of the closet.

TAURUS: Resolution: Low Carb. More Likely: Low Care.

GEMINI: Resolution: Have another kid. More Likely: Hire another kid.

CANCER: Resolution: Bring home the bacon. More Likely: Bring home the swine flu.

LEO: Resolution: Buns of steel. More Likely: Old hot dog buns with the mold picked off and then smeared with jelly are perfectly acceptable to serve your kids for breakfast, right?

VIRGO: Resolution: Potty training. More Likely: Pot.

LIBRA: Resolution: Go to the gym. More Likely: Jim Beam.

SCORPIO: Resolution: Eat organic and local. More Likely: The Chipotle down the street.

SAGITTARIUS: Resolution: Read War and Peace. More Likely: Tie your own tubes.

CAPRICORN: Resolution: Go to Australia. More Likely: Get the runs at Outback Steakhouse.

AQUARIUS: Resolution: Train for a marathon. More Likely: Thomas the Train marathon.

PISCES: Resolution: Go back to school to get a master's degree. More Likely: Go back to school to drop off your kid's clarinet.

TAURUS: On the second day of Christmas your true love gave to you: two cans of Turtle Wax and the wrapper from a Dove Ice Cream Bar. I stole the last one while you were upstairs putting the kids to bed. Psych!

GEMINI: On the third day of Christmas your true love gave to you: three petrified French fries and a couple of chicken McNuggets I found under the minivan's floor mat.

CANCER: On the fourth day of Christmas your true love gave to you: four calling cards that might have some minutes left on them, but I'm not too sure about that. Why don't you let me have them back so I can test them out?

LEO: On the fifth day of Christmas your true love gave to you: five Golden Retriever turds I found on the dining room rug. I'm not sure what to do with them. Do I just flush these, Honey, or should I throw them in the garbage? What? Why are you looking at me like that? It's an honest question!

VIRGO: On the sixth day of Christmas your true love gave to you: a photo of six geese getting laid. Again. Why are you looking at me like that? This is a nice damn nature photo!

LIBRA: On the seventh day of Christmas your true love gave to you: seven Schwan's frozen dinners, swimming in resentment.

SCORPIO: On the eighth day of Christmas your true love gave to you: Hey, look, I can't afford eight maids to provide this freaking family with milk, much less clean our decrepit split-level, but here's a nice breast pump I found on eBay and a Swiffer WetJet.

SAGITTARIUS: On the ninth day of Christmas your true love gave to you: nine ladies dancing. Yes. That's holiday code for: gift card to strip club. Wait. I changed my mind. Give that back. That's mine. Here's your gift card. It's to Cracker Barrel. And it's for $15! Go enjoy yourself some cornbread while I enjoy myself a lap dance.

CAPRICORN: On the tenth day of Christmas your true love gave to you: Hmm. I don't know any lords, much less ones that leap around. But here's a Whitman's Sampler. I left you the ones with walnuts.

AQUARIUS: On the eleventh day of Christmas your true love gave to you: eleven corncob pipes. Because, hey! Who doesn't like a corncob pipe? Am I right? It's a goddamned pipe made out of goddamned corn! Frickin' genius!

PISCES: On the twelfth day of Christmas your true love gave to you: twelve drumsticks. The boneless kind from Wendy's. They're sorta cold after sitting in my car while I was in the strip club, but it's the thought that counts.

TAURUS: Only 55 shopping days left until your MasterCard grows a fist and punches you square in the face at Victoria's Secret.

GEMINI: Quit sucking your thumb, get out of the fetal position, and crawl out from behind the bleachers. Halftime's over, Coach. The prekindergartners can't wait to learn more about flag football. And your divorce. And your hair plugs. And if you've seen Astro Boy. And if they can go potty. And where babies come from.

CANCER: No, you can't contract H1N1 from sausage patties. But you can come down with a mean case of fatass.

LEO: Your toddler has ADHD and your teen, debilitating apathy. Looks like getting to Grandma's for Thanksgiving is going to require the ol' straightjacket and winch.

VIRGO: Do NOT stuff the turkey with THAT.

LIBRA: Bake sale! And this time, I really think the other moms believed the Twinkies were homemade. Because, yeah. Twinkies. Everyone has a family recipe for Twinkies.

SCORPIO: It's your birthday month! Pffft. Like that's meant anything for 20 years.

SAGITTARIUS: The stars are aligned! In the tattoo your daughter got! On her left buttock! With your money!

CAPRICORN: Your zodiac symbol is the seagoat. Is that ancient Greek for bastard?

AQUARIUS: White linens. Polished silver. Free-range turkey. Calligraphy place cards. Sunflowers arranged just so. Crystal goblets of Chardonnay. Heirloom squash. The children scrubbed and pressed. A handful of organic Xanax.

PISCES: It's okay to buy a scarecrow at the hardware store. It's not okay to leave him in the passenger seat for three months because you think he's a great conversationalist.

TAURUS: Putting razor blades in Red Delicious apples is something only a psychopathic, homicidal maniac would think to do. But dipping several dozen Philips Norelco Electric Shavers in dark chocolate, sprinkling them with toasted coconut, and offering them to trick-or-treaters is just downright Martha Stewart-ish.

GEMINI: The Teletubby costume in a men's size XXL might have been a bad idea, but the bulletproof vest sure as hell wasn't.

CANCER: This month, it looks like the only thing you need to complete your crazy-drunk-ugly-mean-neighborhood-man-who-talks-to-himself-and-yells-at-children-while-raking-his-yard costume is the rake.

LEO: Knock knock. Who's there? The I.R.S.

VIRGO: Hey there, Borderline Personality Lady Who Drives Her Kids To School With Curlers In Her Hair And Has A Stogie Hanging Off Her Bottom Lip. Have you met Crazy Drunk Ugly Mean Neighborhood Man Who Talks To Himself And Yells At Children While Raking His Yard? Well, this month it looks like the stars are aligned for love. Either that or a restraining order.

LIBRA: You've been toying with the idea of hosting a haunted house for trick-or-treaters this year. Instead, why not just invite them in for a bowl of Dinty Moore beef stew while you talk about how you failed your G.E.D.? Now that's downright terrifying.

SCORPIO: It's not a good idea to bob for apples at your age. Especially when your ex-wife's foot is on the back of your head.

SAGITTARIUS: Newly divorced, you're excited for a Halloween out on the town with some other cougars. Unfortunately, the other cougars are actually pumas. And your leopard skin coat has them feeling pretty amorous.

CAPRICORN: The universe is unsure which crime is more egregious: your prankster son slashing some tires, or you having the audacity to give trick-or-treaters those crappy candy dots on paper.

AQUARIUS: So, your son wants to dress as a ballerina for Halloween? And your daughter, a wrestler? No biggee. You'll just dress as one of those guys who's about to jump off a tall bridge.

PISCES: Trick or treat? Like that’s a tough choice. Would you like a wedgie or a Jagerbomb? Swine flu or a subscription to Playboy? Date night with your wife of 18 years or a kidney punch? These are not difficult choices, children. Now, have some of these crappy candy dots on paper and get off my lawn.

TAURUS: Pluto is now entering your house of romance. Because nothing says hot sex like a big, annoying, cartoon dog.

GEMINI: I'm not quite certain what a transiting Chiron in your ascendant sign of Scorpio means, but it probably has something to do with adult-onset acne.

CANCER: This month's full moon is brought to you by a trouserless teenage hooligan on your front lawn.

LEO: This September, Saturn moves through your fourth house. Fourth house?! Just who the hell do you think you are Little Miss Hey Look At Me With Four Houses? Is one of them in Aspen? Palm Beach? Soho? Well, I sure as hell hope one of them's in Death Effing Valley, you rich a-hole.

VIRGO: Sadly, this month's lunar eclipse reveals nothing more than your desperate and long overdue need for Rogaine.

LIBRA: You're on the cusp of a major breakthrough. Silly me. I mean breakdown.

SCORPIO: Oopsie daisy. This month, Orion's belt buckle falls off and lands in your driveway, destroying your in-laws' Winnebago. Just take a wild guess where they'll be bunking for the next seven or so months.

SAGITTARIUS: All the stars are shooting. At you.

CAPRICORN: There's a college-dropout Aries in your honor-roll Virgo. And it's all happening in the backseat of your Ford Taurus.

AQUARIUS: This is the dawning of the Age of Aquarius. The OLD age.

PISCES: Oh, Pisces. Only your chart would show a constellation of SpongeBob funneling beer.

TAURUS: Summer is almost over and what do you have to show for it? Oh, that's right: a dozen melted Disney DVDs on your dashboard and deeper crow's feet.

GEMINI: You're the twins of the zodiac, which is really just a nice way of saying you suffer from Multiple Personality Disorder. Yes, I'm talking to you. No, the other you.

CANCER: Who says you're a bitch? Well, besides your husband, ex-husband, kids, stepkids, co-workers, boss, mother, mother-in-law, father, father-in-law, siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins, second cousins, neighbors, telemarketer, hair stylist, accountant, dog, bank teller, dentist, mail carrier, gynecologist, first grade teacher, shrink, meter reader, paperboy, hermit crab, grandmother, and God?

LEO: Remember, it is not appropriate to ask for a "double" at a lemonade stand. Nor should you ask if they take American Express.

VIRGO: Stop being so uptight! Take that pole out of you-know-where, have it installed in your bedroom, and don't blame me when you slip a disk trying to do the "Inverted Fireman" in a pair of granny panties.

LIBRA: You're not fooling anyone. A Dave Matthews sticker on a minivan does not say "cool." It says: "I used to go to concerts a long time ago, but now I spend most of my days in clothing that smells of rancid baby formula. I really have no life, or breasts, to speak of, but if you wink at me while I'm driving, I'll probably make out with you at the next gas station parking lot, that is, right after I stop choking on my coffee because no one has winked at me since I went to that Dave Matthews concert in 1996."

SCORPIO: Huggies and Heineken. Sounds like a great Saturday night. Too bad you'll only be able to stay awake for the Huggies part.

SAGITTARIUS: You really should have that looked at.

CAPRICORN: The 2009/2010 homeroom teacher list just arrived! And what a coincidence that you once dated your son's fourth grade teacher. Well, if "dated" is synonymous with "threw up on during The Blair Witch Project."

AQUARIUS: According to the National Drought Monitor, you'll probably get some nookie in 2098. Until then, it's just you and the sprinkler.

PISCES: Only you would think to replace your son's dead goldfish with a baby carrot.

TAURUS: The Bad News: An errant smoke bomb will render you legally blind. The Good News: You'll never have to witness your teenage daughter's goth stage. Or your eighth-grade son's love affair with body glitter.

GEMINI: The Bad News: An uncooperative Tower of Power will destroy both kneecaps. The Good News: Coaching pee-wee soccer is now impossible. Dang it.

CANCER: The Bad News: A stray Alabama Slammer will knock off both of your nipples. The Good News: You can immediately trade breast feeding for cheap Costco formula without an ounce of guilt.

LEO: The Bad News: A defiant brick of Black Cat firecrackers will take off your testicles. The Good News: Yippee! Scoot! Quit mollycoddling that crotch! Go throw out your wife's pesky diaphragm, stat!

VIRGO: The Bad News: A disobliging Roman candle will leave you deaf as a doornail. The Good News: You can now take ignoring everything everyone says to the next level.

LIBRA: The Bad News: A recalcitrant Screamin' Meemie will blow your head off. The Good News: Finally you can get more than four hours sleep.

SCORPIO: The Bad News: An unruly pack of novelty Killer Bees explodes upon ignition, destroying your sense of smell. The Good News: Name one thing in your house that smelled good anyway.

SAGITTARIUS: The Bad News: The municipal grand finale goes completely awry and covers 90% of your body with third-degree burns. The Good News: Your wife is no longer on your ass about drinking during the week.

CAPRICORN: The Bad News: A capricious M-80 will leave you entirely bald. The Good News: Bald is the new morbidly obese.

AQUARIUS: The Bad News: Shrapnel from a family pack of El Cheapos will lodge in your skull, leaving you with the intellectual capacity of an armadillo. The Good News: You no longer qualify to play Hungry Hungry Hippos.

PISCES: You know Independence Day tragedies only happen to the lucky few. So, this month, you'll be uncharacteristically proactive by sticking a lit sparkler up your nose just to get out of chaperoning the middle school dance. Way to think outside the box, Pisces.