The Bluegrass Zodiac: February Horoscopes

Banjo: Near the end of the month, your wife will find your suggestion to build a love nest very romantic … until she finds the eviction notice on your apartment door.

Accordion: Misery loves company, which is why you won’t even consider filing divorce papers until you have one last expensive and insufferable Valentine’s Day dinner.

Mandolin: The stars advise you to test how cool your girlfriend really is by taking that tips-only gig on the 14th.

Dobro: Your surprise romantic picnic will be spoiled when you find out your Tinder date is allergic to pretty much everything — including pollen and poverty.

Harmonica: When a meteor shower passes through the shadow of Uranus, you'll wonder if you should have gone on that second Krystal run last night.

Fiddle: There will be cosmic confusion when your jelly donut turns out to be full of that yellow custard stuff, but you’ll decide, "Whatever; it’s still a donut."

Pedal Steel: Go ahead and talk loudly about your love muscle at the gym this week; your crush will be listening.

Bass: After the new moon, a night in jail will teach you that "love it and leave it" does not apply to department store mannequins.

Guitar: Love at first sight is not an excuse to outbid everyone else on Clapton’s Stratocaster hybrid.

Drummer: The waterfall at the end of your seven-mile hike will seem way less cool than last time when you ate those dank mushrooms.

Singer: Your only-a-mother-could-love face ends up being pretty awkward when your drummer offers to let the band stay at his parents’ house next month.

Ukulele: Those three little words she was hoping to hear at dinner were not “You got this?”


The above is a work of satire. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental … although entirely likely.

Illustration by Abby McMillen

The Bluegrass Zodiac: January Horoscopes

Dobro: For future dobro horoscopes, please click here to support our dobro horoscope Kickstarter campaign.

Ukulele: The stars reveal that yes, indeed, that is infected.

Accordion:  Your push for more change in the workplace next month will result in a “No Busking” sign in the break room.

Pedal Steel: You haven’t been to the gym yet this year, have you? The cosmos advises you, for the last time, to stop kidding yourself and pick a new resolution.

Harmonica: As the full moon approaches, the line between old time and bluegrass will be blurred by a band that only sort of knows what they’re doing.

Singer: Getting into astrology this year will be the perfect way to explain away your laziness and lack of basic human effort.

Fiddle: Your instrument will frequently go out of tune at your show next week, so rehearse your tired one-liners ahead of time.

Bass: Try out a new diet fad this month and use it as the reason you bring gas station Lunchables to every dinner party.

Mandolin: An unexpected sum will come your way when you realize the buy/sell/trade shop will take most of the terrible CDs you’ve been forced to trade for yours over the years.

Banjo: Resolving to finally learn to play the banjo will be derailed by your desire to maintain your marriage and friendships.

Drums: Hey, don’t fuck it up this year, okay? Good talk.

Guitar: After the new moon, you’ll discover that the extremely rare 1946 Martin flat top you’ve been showing off for years was actually a shop class replica project in 2004 by a kid from Queens.


The above is a work of satire. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental … although entirely likely.

Illustrations by Abby McMillen

The Bluegrass Zodiac: December Horoscopes

Dobro: You have a difficult week ahead, but rest easy knowing that, even in good times, your crushing social anxiety cancels your plans and puts you in bed by 8 pm.

Ukulele: Blame whatever you want on Mercury Retrograde; in three weeks, you’re still going to owe Mark 50 bucks for accidentally eating his pan of special brownies.

Accordion: This month feel free to interpret your “All Is Lost” fortune however you like.

Pedal Steel: The stars apologize for sending you that severe bout of IBS on your flight home, but don’t get all weird and gluten-free now because beer and pizza are what define you as an American.

Harmonica: Setting your phone alarm to Van Halen’s “Jump” on the 19th will only prevent you from oversleeping for two days before you’re back to telling yourself you have no reason to live.

Singer: You’ll realize sometime next Thursday that you definitely did not have time for one more during your opening set.

Fiddle: Make yourself feel extra pretty at your upcoming photo shoot by inviting any catcallers you encounter to attend. Tell craft services to stock Mad Dog, Robitussin, and any other fashionable bum wines.

Bass: Get yourself prepared for upcoming holiday time with your family by spending an hour a day angry, exhausted, and misunderstood. Practice by baiting your neighbors into fistfights and yelling at children.

Mandolin: To sustain balance this month, try sleeping 12 hours per day.

Banjo: Venus enters Libra in December, which kinda sounds like penis enters labia, so maybe you’ll get laid? Trim your pubic hair in the shape of a candy cane just in case.

Drums: Fortunately, your band’s next record will be well-received, garner critical acclaim, and get heard clear across the globe. Unfortunately, you’ll never make money in this industry.

Guitar: The planets will not affect you in any way as long as you stay right where you are, between Xenu and Jaden Smith in a spacecraft just outside Teegeeack’s gravitational pull.


The above is a work of satire. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental … although entirely likely.

Illustrations by Abby McMillen