In Horror-Scopes, Grapevine’s dedicated team of amateur astrologists breaks down your upcoming weeks based on shit like what Mercury’s up to.
Treat yourself! Brunch at the Laundromat is on us. Just kidding, you’re paying.
You finish the Dark Tower series and the ridiculous ending promptly sends you into a nervous breakdown. Don’t worry, we’ve been there. Just remember: Ka is a friend to good as well as evil. Embrace the stupidity.
On the street, you run into the infamous naked-man-in-a-box Almar Atlason. He gives you a piece of saltfiskur and asks you to fuck off. This is as close as you’ll ever come to fame, so treasure it.
Liking Lana Del Rey’s new album is not a personality trait, but it might mean you have to tackle your Daddy issues and depression.
Take your S.O. on a romantic getaway to Húsavík. Whales are a surefire aphrodisiac.
You’re too happy. Read ‘Atonement’ to dull yourself down.
The East of Iceland is an untamed getaway for those looking for mysterious ventures. Rent a van and “find yourself.” What does that mean? We don’t exactly know, but our crystal balls say it involves lots of stargazing, flat tires, and making out with other hippies. Avoid Scorpios.
All of your friends have a group chat without you.
Horses run for fame but donkeys are the ones to achieve it. Consider this in all business decisions.
You’ll be setting a new trend by wearing a pink vagina hat. Congratulations, not even Björk was able to do that.
It’s never too late to take out your Kony 2012 action pack and SAVE THE WORLD.
If you’re a boss, give all your employees a raise! They deserve it. It’s not like the publisher of the Grapevine is a Pisces, though. That would be totally unethical for us to write.
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