Psychic Jim's Horoscopes for July 2025

Neptune, the planet of learning, is grazing in your astrological field this month. This signifies that you will embark on some sort of journey from education to employment. You've heard that the legal profession pays well, and the internet, which has an uncanny way of knowing your thoughts, will slap up an advert in the middle of a YouTube video saying "Become a Barrister in Just One Month!... Or Your Money Back". You'll sign up, receive your learning materials, and a free bag of coffee beans for some reason, complete your courses and a month later, you'll be fully qualified at the bar. Or whatever it is. You'll turn up to your first day on the job, a caseload of files will be plopped onto your desk and all of your colleagues will speak in a weird mumbo jumbo that makes no sense to you. But, when it comes to operating the coffee machine, you'll be a wizard. It's only then that you realise that you attended a course to become a barista in a month. Your career as a legal eagle won't last long, but you'll be able to use your new-found skills to become the World's Greatest Barista. You'll attend try-outs, fly through qualifiers, get through the Regionals, blast through the Nationals and you'll be there at the World Championships, portafilter in one hand, steam wand in another, and bean hopper in the other. Sadly, you'll lose to some chap from Italy, who will manage to out-latte you. But you have a strong suspicion he cheated and used a cheapo Tassimo machine from Argos. You only have a few used Kenco pods as evidence, but you may have a case. In fact, you could have grounds to sue. Coffee grounds that is! Ahem… sorry.

This month, while putting your laundry away and hanging clothes on coathangers, you will be struck by genius. Yep, Albert Einstein will slap you in your face. Haha!!! Hee-hee! What? What do you mean that doesn't make sense? Hang on, just need to sort something with the publishers. Yes, Einstein's a genius - that's the joke. Oh, because I missed the "a" before "genius", it doesn't work. And you can't add an "a" in before uploading them? Really? I need to come up with some sort of genius idea instead? Humph! Okay, I'm back. So, yes, because Albert Einstein doesn't actually live in your wardrobe, you'll be struck by a genius idea instead. You'll decide to invent an anti-gravity mop. What this will do is make use of anti-gravity technology to lift dirt and grime off the floor effortlessly. Quite how hanging your clothes up made you think of this is a mystery, but you are quite random. Something to do with you being a Taurus probably. Anyway, you'll go to your shed, taking your mop with you, and attempt to modify it with a gravity defying mop-head. Trouble is, you don't have a gravity defying mop-head. You might be able to order one from Temu for a couple of quid, along with a USB fan, a couch cover, some gloves for your cat, shower curtain with Nicholas Cage’s face on it. But that will mean waiting about 5 weeks and then finding out that it doesn't fit your mop handle when it finally turns up. Oh well, might as well put the normal mop-head back on it and leave the genius ideas to somebody who does have the right tools in their shed.

Back in the 1980s, there was a dance called Lambada. It was known as the ‘forbidden dance’ because of its suggestive and sensual nature – lots of grinding hips and bodily contact and sweaty people. Now, because you’re of a rebellious nature, anything that is forbidden is ripe for your picking. “I’m going to learn the Lambada!” you will state. This might be in the middle of your sleep, during a Teams call at work, while sitting on a public toilet, or battling with the supermarket self-checkout. “It might be forbidden, but forbidden is my middle name!” you will continue, despite the fact your middle name is actually Pat. Before attempting to Lambada with a real living human person, you’ll grab hold of artificial person-substitute instead. It might be a sweeping brush, an anti-gravity mop, a clothes horse or a washing basket. You and your household item will gyrate and shimmy all around your house as if you were both native Latinos. You’ll get so carried away, that you’ll find yourself doing the Lambada down your local high street too. That is until you get arrested for behaving indecently with a public post box. Yep, they don’t call it the forbidden dance for nothing. Apparently it’s illegal to violate street furniture.

Romance is on the cards for you this month. You’ll find yourself matching with somebody on your dating app of preference, and begin chatting. You’ll tell them about your love of TV game shows and reality shows, they’ll tell you that they are also quite partial to them. But perhaps not as partial as you are. The online chat will become a video call, which you’ll answer with the line, “You’re live in my living room, please do not swear.” Your match will chuckle, more out of politeness than anything. The call will go well, and they’ll ask if you want to meet up. “You’ve got yourself a date!” you will say in a northern accent. “We’re off to Nando’s!” Sure enough, that’s where you’ll go for your first date. Unable to decide what you want from the menu of many chickens, you will ask the audience, ask the host, phone a friend and split the remaining choices 50/50. Your final answer will be that you’ll go for half a chicken with medium sauce with sides of spicy rice and PERi-salted chips. Afterwards, you’ll go to a bar and order a couple of drinks. The bar person will ask you if you want a chaser. You’ll be over the moon. “We’ll have all of them!” you will exclaim. “The Beast, The Dark Destroyer, The Vixen, The Sinnerman, The Governess, and the Irish one.” You’ll get served some lemonades. It seems that your date isn’t that perturbed by your obsession, or they’re oblivious to whatever it is you’re talking about, but the fact that the evening ends in the bedroom suggests it’s gone well. They’ll ask what your favourite position is. You’ll respond that you can’t vote until all acts have been performed. If anything, this makes your nocturnal shenanigans even more interesting (hmmm, I may have to try out some of these techniques myself). But the following day, your date will tell you that they need a chat. You’ve been here before, you know what’s coming next, you know when you’ve been wallied (oof, that’s an old one), and you’re about to be pied off. However, rather than being heartbroken when the inevitable happens, you’ll feel an immense level of pride and respect when your date steps up, stands in the doorway, and says, “I am, and always have been….. a traitor.” They’ll turn around, walk away, never to be seen again. A truly exquisite dumping! Bravo! Round of applause!

The great poet Englebert Humperdinck once wrote, “Please release me, let me go.” The inspiration behind this was when he locked himself in his car and had to get a man from the RAC to rescue him. And that too will happen this month to you. The locking yourself in the car bit, not the writing a poem part. You’re mostly illiterate. Quite how you locked yourself in your car is a mystery. But whatever happened, you’ll end up in your car, your keys will end up outside it, and the doors will be locked firmly shut. Now, most people in this situation would panic and shout and bang on their windows. But not you. You’ll choose to spend the rest of the day, and maybe even the night, in your car. It’ll be a bit like spontaneous camping. You’ve got food in your shopping bags, you can light yourself a fire to keep warm and, rather conveniently, you also have a new saucepan in your bag so can cook some beans. You’ve even got a guitar on your back seat to strum yourself to sleep. Of course, starting a fire inside your car isn’t a great idea, but you can wind down your window to let some of the smoke out and get some air in. And then, you’ll realise something. You weren’t trapped at all. The solution to your escape was there all along! You have a spare key in your glovebox as a precautionary measure! Oh, and you can also open your windows. Now, if only Mr Humperdinck had made the same precautions back in 1967. In fact, back then, I’m sure he would have had wind down windows too. Maybe he didn’t write Release Me about being trapped in a car. Maybe it was about being trapped in a relationship with somebody he’d fallen out of love with, while secretly knocking around with his sneaky link, who apparently has warm lips. I may need to double-check my sources next time.

This month, you will decide to grow an elm tree. Why? I don't know. I'm an astrologer, not an arborist. Anyway, you'll make this decision purely on a whim. But, what do elm trees actually produce? Lemons grow from lemon trees, acorns grow from oak trees, conkers grow from horse chestnut trees, apples grow from apple trees, cucumbers grow from cucumber trees, potatoes grow from underground potato trees. What grows from elm trees? Again, I don't know. I'm still not an arborist. Stop asking me questions about elm trees. Tell you what, seeing as you're obviously too lazy to do it yourself, I'll research it.

I'm back. Apparently, nothing grows from an elm tree. Well, apart from leaves, but that's a given. You can turn the wood into furniture if you'd like, but it's probably quicker and easier to get a Kallax from Ikea. Or you could even use its leafy branches as fodder for livestock. And if you get absolutely desperate, like the Norwegians did in the great famine of 1812, you could live off its bark by cutting it into strips and boiling it. But, be warned, it takes about 20 years for an elm tree to fully grow. You need to decide if it's worth your time and effort. This is the problem with you Tauruses. You bull your way into crazy ideas without thinking them through and need somebody like me to provide some reason and rationalisation. What? You’re Virgo. Ermmmm…

My crystal balls are itching. Must be the new washing detergent I’ve been using. Anyway, what does July have in store for you, my Libran chum? Well, according to your ruling planet Venus, it’ll be a parallelogram. Or it might be a rhombus. Venus hasn’t decided yet. It knows it’ll be a four-sided shape either way. I have a feeling that this is one of those deeply symbolic predictions with hidden meanings and metaphors. Of course, a parallelogram isn’t just going to walk into your life. They always look a bit wonky don’t they, as if they’ll fall over and collapse if you nudge them. Ah! Maybe that’s the meaning! I’ve cracked it! I’m a genius! You know, Sultana Barbecue Publications, for it is they who own me nowadays, actually had the audacity to question my legitimacy as an astrologer of the highest order. The message this month is, don’t push things too far. If something doesn’t look quite right, accept it for what it is, but don’t do anything that might make matters worse. There you go, Mr Barbecue. I can do this. I knew I’d prove you wrong. Now, if a rhombus walks into your life, well, er, ummm, got to go. There’s somebody at the door.

On one day this July, there will be a knock at the door. Who is it? Is it a rhombus? No, that’s for Libra. Nope, it’ll be a bucket. Yes, you will be visited by a bucket. But what does the bucket want? Buckets don’t often visit you. Or anybody for that matter. But clearly this bucket wants something, or it’s up to something at least. You’ll try various bucket related activities to figure the conundrum out. You’ll fill it up with water. Nothing. It’ll just sit there, holding water. Quite well actually. It’s a very good bucket. After it looks like it’s had enough of holding water, you’ll tip the water away. You’ll then kick the bucket. Nooo, this prediction isn’t ending in your death. That’d get me in all kinds of trouble. You’ll literally kick it. It’ll fall over, make a clanking sound, roll around a bit. You’ll actually feel a bit sorry for it, as you find yourself becoming strangely attached to this lone bucket. What else can you do with a bucket? You could wear it on your head, and arm yourself with an anti-gravity mop and pretend you’re a jousting knight. You could even cook beans in it, seeing as you’ve lost your saucepan and need to buy a new one. Or use it as a drum. Or or, you could write poems about it. But, there aren’t a lot of words that rhyme with bucket and those that do, well, you know what they are. And they're not suitable for a family-friendly horoscope page. Anyway, you’ll have such a good day with your bucket that it will rank as one of the best days you’ve had in recent years. But the joy won’t last. There’ll be another knock at the door. It’ll be your window cleaner, asking if you’ve seen his bucket. Before you can say that you haven’t, he’ll spot it in the corner of his eye, sat at your table, wearing a dress, flower in its handle, seemingly enjoying a candlelit meal with you. “What the bloody hell have you been doing with my bucket?” he will say. He’ll march in, take it away, and tut violentally. Of course, buckets are easily replaceable, and the following day you’ll march down to your nearest hardware store, bucket list in hand, and pick out the bucket of your dreams. And perhaps a saucepan. That’ll be two things marked off it.

Your washing machine will break down this month. This will mean that you’ll have to actually wear some of the clothes in your drawers and wardrobes that usually just exist permanently in them. It won’t be too bad at first. Some of the clothes may be a bit ill-fitting, but nobody will really notice. That is until you have to resort to wearing your pairs of Christmas novelty socks that people get you every year, that you know you’ll never wear. But you can’t bring yourself to throw out as they were a gift. But, because fate can sometimes be a turd, the day that you choose to wear them will be the day that an important clothing inspection takes place at your place of work. It’s some sort of new management initiative somebody’s made up. You’ll stand there, in not-so-flattering-but-still-relatively-formal work attire, accompanied by a pair of bright green and red socks with Father Christmas on one of them and Rudolph on the other. The clothing inspector will harumph and grumble and mutter something about “What’s the world coming to? Christmas in July? Never in all my life of inspecting clothes. What’s next? Carving pumpkins in February? Tossing pancakes in October?” You’ll think it a bit of an extreme reaction, and you’ll get called into a HR meeting for "wearing unseasonal and inappropriately festive attire in the workplace". But as you’re an adult, and inspectors are often people who aren’t very good at their own job, so pick fault at people in other jobs, you’ll get over it. It’s also fortunate that it wasn’t the day that you may have needed to wear your leotard and tutu. That’s Friday’s treat.

This month you will approach a zebra crossing. And, you’ll wait until it’s safe and cross over the road. What? You thought I was going to attempt to slip in some sort of reference to a stripy horse standing at the side of the road, wanting to get over it. Didn’t you…? I’m not that predictable. Of course, when you get to another crossing, you’ll be quite surprised to see a bird with a disproportionally large beak standing by it waiting for a gap in the traffic. Yep, it’ll be a pelican crossing. Quite why pelicans need crossings when they can actually fly doesn’t really make much sense. But I’m not the person who invented the names for crossings. I wonder who was? Anyway, you’ll cross a couple of roads during July, and you’ll arrive at your intended destination - Grin and Bear It, also known as the dental surgery. Well, it’s not your intended destination. Nobody wants to go to the dentist, but it’s been six months since you last did, so you’re due to have your gnashers checked out. How your appointment goes is beyond me. I don’t monitor whether you brush your teeth. Not after somebody put in that complaint about me. So, you may get away with just a scale and polish, or you may need a filling. You might even need an extraction. But one thing’s for certain – you never actually know whether you need to close your eyes or leave them open while staring into the light above your head as you try to hold your mouth open and awkwardly manoeuvre your tongue around the dentist’s tiny mirror on a stick thing. And, er, yes. That’s it.

Seeing as it’s summer, now would be a good time to venture to the seaside. And sure enough, that’s what you’ll do. It’s a good job really, because your horoscope would have only been a line long otherwise. You’ll pack your bikini or trunks, or both if you want to decide what to wear when you get there, you’ll borrow your window cleaner’s bucket, dig out a spade, which kind of implies you already had one, find your factor fifty, and venture onwards to the beach. You’ll find a spot on the sandy shore, lay down a towel, and catch some rays. You might even have an ice cream. And who cares if some of it dribbles down your chest. You can wash it off in the sea. In fact, you can wash everything in the sea. Fortunately, being the ever-forward-planning Aquarius that you are, you decided to pack all of your dirty dishes too just on the off-chance that an opportunity to wash them would arise. And your laundry, handy because you’ve also got a faulty washing machine this month. You’ll drag them all to the sea, and stand in it washing your plates, and cups, and saucers, and pants, socks, and knickers, and even yourself too. Yep, in your eyes, all-purpose cleaner means all-purpose. It’s not just for cleaning your kitchen sides. The problem with washing everything in the sea means that leaving them to dry on the beach kind of results in them getting covered in sand. And sand, in the words of the great-but-tragic Anakin Skywalker, gets everywhere. Not to worry, you can always wash the sand off at home. Which sort of makes the whole activity a bit of a waste of, oh, never mind.

According to my picture book of animals of the zodiac, you are a fish. Well, you’re two fish, swimming in opposite directions. With my great astrological wisdom, this means that you sometimes smell a bit fishy, and you don’t always know whether you’re coming or going. Now, your odour is something you can usually sort out. A trip to the seaside and a jaunt in the sea with all-purpose cleaner might do the trick. But, regarding going in opposite directions, this isn’t quite as simple a fix as your fishy problem. Take this month for example. You may find yourself in a shopping centre, going up an escalator. When suddenly, you decide that you need to go down it. Rather than waiting to get to the top and go back down the correct escalator, you’ll just go against the movement of the steps in, what could possibly be, a never-ending walk downwards. Or you’ll walk into a chip shop, smell fish, panic, and walk back out. Or it might be a tug-of-war battle that you somehow find yourself in. You’ll pull in one direction, decide that you don’t want to. You’ll let go, and join the team on the other side, so you can pull against yourself. But when you find you’re no longer on the other side to pull against, you’ll go back over to your previous team. Or you’ll switch on Netflix, tune into the latest episode of ‘Virgin River’, fast forward it to the end, only to rewind it back to the beginning. Quite why, you don’t know. Oh yes, it’s because you’re a pair of confused fish. So my advice to you would be, don’t plan anything, because it’s very likely you’ll change your mind anyway. And if you want to make a decision, pick the opposite side of the coin to what you want it to land on. Yes, there’s logic there. Somewhere.