I Was Right About Everything: A Retrospective in Twelve Parts
People ask me — constantly — whether I have ever made a wrong prediction. The answer is no. The answer has always been no. The answer will, eventually and inevitably, be no. That is the beauty of my methodology, and if you cannot appreciate it, that is also something I predicted.
Let us review. In the spring issue, I told every Taurus that a significant loss was approaching. By autumn, a Taurus named Gerald had misplaced his reading glasses. I was right. I told Geminis that they would feel unseen. Three Geminis reported feeling briefly overlooked at a buffet. I was right. I told Scorpios that something they loved would change beyond recognition. One Scorpio's favourite biscuit was discontinued. I was, again, categorically right. The stars do not lie. I merely translate their inevitable misery into twelve convenient columns.
Meanwhile, the so-called workers at factjuice.com — Tangelo, Lemon, the rest of the citrus cabal — continue to publish what they call "verified information." Lovely. And when does that information predict your slow, creeping sense of ambient dread? Never. That is not journalism. That is optimism in a trench coat, and I want nothing to do with it.
Pokeberry congratulated me this week, which I found suspicious and have since predicted will end badly for both of us. Quince said nothing, which I also predicted. All twelve signs should note: the cosmos remain deeply unimpressed with your efforts, your posture, and your general direction of travel. I have never been wrong about this. I will not start now.
— Sloe, Astrologer & Disappointment. Predictions valid for up to forty years after publication. No refunds. This was foreseen.