Horoscopes by Anthony Bourdain

By Anthony Bourdain

An excerpt from Nonsense’s Guide to Travel!


You’ve been listening to too much of that new-age folk bullshit music, Pisces. Pull yourself together and jam out to some serious rock-and-roll. Guns and Roses. The Ramones. Iggy Pop. Put on your record player and just tune out. Maybe, if you feel so compelled, indulge in a bump of heroin. Then describe it to me. Please. Just this once, kid. For me.


Aries, you have too much fire in you. Invest in a warm glass of sake. Find yourself in that sushi joint I told you about in Shibuya. Tell the chef that Tony sent you. He, and only he, will know what to do. Don’t cringe when he serves you the sea urchin: that blessed, slithering, raw uni. You’ve had worse in your mouth, I’m sure.


Get your dick out of that French duck press, Taurus, because it’s time to stop fooling around. You’re stubborn, but you’re losing your grip. No one wants to hear you bitch about your sexless marriage. Man up. A nice glass of a well-aged scotch and maybe some rare filet will ease your troubles.


I once fucked a pair of twins on my first trip to Australia. They were tan, well-oiled, and gorgeous. I still buy them a beer or two whenever I’m in Sydney. It’ll be a good week, Gemini, if you play your cards right. Keep it up, you sexy, multi-faceted devil. You too, deserve a beer.


Stop your crying, Cancer, and get yourself a stiff one (heh) at your closest dive bar: the one with the oldest strippers you can find. Your problem is that you’re a vegan. Order a thick cheeseburger and have a good jerk in the bathroom stall. The big one. Don’t flush.


Leo, you warm-hearted lion, you. You mean well, but honestly, your efforts just aren’t cutting it. Take a nice day all to yourself on the beach and keep a freshly-muddled caipirinha in your hand at all times. No beach? Too bad. Draw a bath. …what? I enjoy the small things in life. What of it, cocksucker?


It has been a stressful week, Virgo. Keep your cool. Take a long stroll to the walk-in fridge and have a good primal scream, like the one your father had. In there you will find a nice package of pancetta. You know what to do from here, big boy. Grease up and slither behind the bar to grab a shot of whiskey from that barmaid you’ve been trying friskily to fingerfuck. Maybe snort a line off her ass.


A hard worker, you are, Libra. Your business aspirations, however, will fail this week. Consider a side hustle in something less than legal, perhaps. Indulge in those sensory pleasures you have long denied yourself…chase the dragon, kid. Chase it real good.


How many more of them are there? Three? After this? Fine, but the next round is on you guys. Who’s next? Scorpio? You’re known for your devilish charm, Scorpio, but you really gotta start taking it easy. Sometimes, you need a little – how should I say – aromatherapy. A spliff in Amsterdam, perhaps?


Weary traveler Sagittarius, it’s time for you to leave again. Be spontaneous. I would suggest Malaysia or the Philippines. Last time I was in Malaysia, I got a hand-tapped tattoo of an ouroboros. Follow suit. Ask for extra beef in your bowl of noodles, and when your hosts offer you their locally brewed hooch, don’t be a pussy.


You’re a ruthless bastard, Goat Man. Mmm…goat. Ever tried goat kidney? Delicious with a cold glass of…what was I saying? I’m fucking starving. They haven’t fed me yet today, and I’m getting a little fucking grumpy.


This week, Aquarius, expect to…wait a second, Guy Fieri is an Aquarius? Fuck horoscopes. Fuck you all. Fuck. You. All. Fuck. You. All.