It’s with fanfare most mediocre Glossy News ho-humfully ushers in the newest in its long running series of helpful astrological readings tailored not to the vague and unimaginable reader, but to one so very specific we can’t even imagine whom she or he may be. It’s with baited breath we bring you the Albacoreascopes; horoscopes tailored just for you, you fish, fish gobblin’ or fish huntin’ fool.

Libra: (Sept. 23-Oct. 23) – Whether chicken of the sea or tuna of the turf, it’s all flippers and blowholes to you. Embrace your pleasure in such commercial extinction and semi-anonymous sex respectively, if not respectfully.

Scorpio: (Oct. 24-Nov. 21) – Tuna salad is high in protein, low in fat and smells like a Hong Kong whorehouse at 6:00 a.m. Kudos to your health and courage in the enticing engobblement of such a dish.

Sagittarius: (Nov. 22-Dec. 21) – Despite the mayo-soaked metric ton you’ve consumed since 1988, the tuna fish you’ll see at the aquarium this week will surprise you. Now that you’ll be able to pick one out in a line-up you’ll switch back to beef, and your anemia will magically cure itself.

Capricorn: (Dec. 22-Jan. 19) – He ain’t loyal, honey, he didn’t dump a single drop of packing Starkist on his pants. That’s the stench of receptionist smothering his Dockers as surely as she did. Forget the Visa, the Amex has a grand at Tiffany’s and that ice didn’t go in your Highball.

Aquarius: (Jan. 20-Feb. 1 – Following your seafood free life of virtue you’ll be devoured this week in an illegally operated though cost effective Mexican scuba mishap. And though you’ve never previously nibbled their kind, rejoice in what limited consolation it is that they’ve likewise never nibbled yours.

Pisces: (Feb. 19-March 20) – If it smells like fish, pack a snorkel.

Aries: (March 21-April 19) – As an oceanographer, you detest the mistreatment of sea life. Since you’re lady’s buffet smells like leftover catfish, consider instead the pu-pu platter. I know it’s not the most sequiterial conclusion, but I don’t write ’em, I just read ’em.

Taurus: (April. 20-May 20) – I know she’s hot, but that’s some messed up business right there. I know what the stars are talking about and you know what I’m talking about.

Gemini: (May 21-June 21) – Deep sea diving? Deep muff dining? A rose by any other name still smells like sweetest, rankest albacore.

Cancer: (June 22-July 22) – Brush, floss, consider a professional treatment. While the Stars and Zojack find it totally hot, very few find tuna breath anything short of nasty. Maybe you’ve got a gum disease or something, I don’t know. New moon’s no doctor you know.

Leo: (July 23-Aug. 22) – Your stockpile of tuna cans will save your life this week when a
home invader will see you mightily rear one back and gladly take it in the (namesake alike) rear of his own. Police and paramedics will praise your quick thinking but. Sadly, due to PR reasons the mayor will pass you over for civic honors.

Virgo: (Aug. 23-Sept. 22) – Though you’re not a dirty slut and you’ve only eaten it
maybe twice, half the school says you smell like it. The stars just thought you might like to know that. I’m just saying.


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