Listen up, sunshine, the rat race has got you doing the foxtrot on a tightrope. So, you fancy being the big cheese, eh? That’s grand, just remember, if you’re not the lead dog, the view is always the same: a right load of arse. You’re running around like a blue-arsed fly both at home and down the pub. The whisper on the wind is, keep your peepers peeled and your ear to the ground. Sounds uncomfortable, but who said life was a bed of roses? Trust your gut, although I’ve seen what you eat, and frankly, I wouldn’t trust that gut with a barge pole. Your quick wit is your saving grace�like a fox in a hen house but without all the clucking. And for your lucky charm: here’s a tip, carry a sprig of gorse for good luck. Smells like coconut, but don’t eat it, unless a bout of the squits is your idea of good fortune.

Come back tomorrow for another exciting horoscope!