Your astrological week ahead for January 3rd, with Psychic Bob

Aries, March 21st–April 19th: Life is like a box of chocolates. Suffering from shrinkflation.

Taurus, April 20th–May 20th: “Yes, we have a copy of Fly-Fishing by JR Hartley, but penises are drawn on all the pictures and ‘is a twat’ is written under the author’s name. So priced as ‘slightly foxed’.”

Gemini, May 21st–June 21st: What? There’s another 12 months of this shit now? Really? Do we have to?

Cancer, June 22nd–July 22nd: So, going over last year’s horoscope results we got 22 right, 26 wrong, four too vague to say.

Leo, July 23rd–August 22nd: “There are three of us in this marriage. Me, you and Alexa.” [Alexa overhears and plays the Imperial March from Star Wars totally unprompted]

Virgo, August 23rd–September 22nd: For f**k’s sake, this year, try to have more confidence in the economy.

Libra, September 23rd–October 22nd: Of course the real punishment is the courtroom artist’s cruel sketch of you, not 22 years without parole.

Scorpio, October 23rd–November 22nd: If you order a pot of English breakfast tea, expect it to have some porridge in it.

Sagittarius, November 22nd–December 21st: “I’ll put on a DVD, or as I call him David.”

Capricorn, December 22nd–January 19th: If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends. That’s simply how a polycule works.

Aquarius, January 20th–February 18th: “Left turn, Clyde!” [Chimp punches Clint Eastwood unconscious] [Eastwood’s rig, driverless, veers across four lanes of freeway and causes pile-up, 60 dead]

Pisces, February 19th–March 20th: You judge how your year will go on how well the novelty New Year glasses in the shape of that year work. 2026 will be mediocre.