In HorrorScopes, Grapevine’s dedicated team of amateur astrologists breaks down your upcoming weeks based on shit like where an asteroid was when you were born.
In preparation for ‘The Rise Of Skywalker,’ you ordered a movie-quality recreation of Kylo Ren’s completely impractical lightsaber, which some idiot at the post office named Gunnar dropped. There is no choice now but to join the Sith and kill not only all the post office men, but the women and children too.
Taurus, put down the hamburger.
Stop humble-bragging about how “privileged” you are. No one cares that your family sailed on the Mayflower.
You’re never going to get to space if you keep endlessly drinking in Kaffibarinn. Stop dressing like a bum, and start peeing into a tube!
Inspired by the original BioQueen, miss Sylvia Nótt, you purchase some feathers for your hair. Congratulations, you have arrived. Yaas!
We know it’s not easy being painfully aware of how far from perfect everyone around you is, but maybe pay a friend an unexpected compliment. You can be judgmental the other 364 days of the year.
Stop telling people that you’re disappointed by the new Taylor Swift albums and be proud about your obsession with “London Boy.” It’s embarrassing, but so is your hair.
Sorry, Scorps, but constantly referencing ‘Fight Club’ or ‘Rick & Morty’ is not a personality trait.
You’ve always had a weird fascination with the drummer of Hatari, but trust us: He will never acknowledge your dumbass existence.
Stop spending so much time on TikTok and get on God’s clock!
You will see a meme about adopting pets on your Facebook timeline with the caption “I bet this won’t even get one share”. You will scroll past it, and then share it an hour later when the guilt overcomes you.
If you know what’s good for you, you’ll bring your whole family to FlyOver Iceland ASAP.
Want a detailed Horror-scope reading? Tweet us your moon sign, blood type and current distance from Gullfoss and we’ll do our best to get back to you.
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