Psychic Jim's Horoscopes for May 2025

About 25 years ago, the stars and planets predicted that you would build a replica of the Taj Mahal out of toilet paper. They didn't say why. They can be annoying like that sometimes. In fact, the other day, I asked Neptune what day the bins get collected and which one I need to put out this week. He said Wednesday and the blue one. Turns out it was the black one. And it should have been put out on Tuesday. He's such an idiot. Anyway, in 2020, when the world had to go into hiding to partake in Zoom quizzes and suchlike, it became apparent why you needed a house of toilet paper. It was to avoid having to partake in the pandemonium of pandemical panic buying. But more than that, because nobody actually needs a Taj Mahal's worth of toilet paper, it also meant you could sell your spare stash online, at heavily inflated prices on eBay, and Vinted, and Facebook Marketplace. And so you did. Now, here you are in May 2025, down to your last 9 rolls but with a fridge full of toilet paper-generated profits. What will you do with it? Well, the planets tell me that you're going to purchase packs and packs of pasta and use it to build a replica of the Leaning Tower of Pisa. You could call it the Leaning Tower of Pasta. Now, if you were to buy pizza and build it, it'd be the Leaning Tower of Pizza, which would be much more hilarious. But apparently the planets are saying it must be made out of pasta. And in another 20 or so years, you may find out why. Or you may not. It depends on if I can be lured out of my secret psychic lair again then.

This month, you will hurt your toe on something. I should really say you will hurt one of your toes on something. Just saying your toe makes it sound like you've only got one, which is a bit weird when you actually think about it. Is it one toe overall, or one toe on each foot? Anyway, you'll feel the need to visit A&E and you'll do what people always used to do when visiting A&E. You'll check in on Facebook so people know of your woes. Of course, you won't actually tell them why you're there, because you want to lure them in so they ask. The problem is, as Facebook's all-knowing algorithm seems to have over-algorithmed even itself and is running the entire show nowadays, what's left of Facebook seems to be wasteland of AI-generated images, suggested groups and pages to follow, adverts for companies that one of your friends must have liked at some point in the last 15 years, somebody in a local neighbourhood group that you're not even a member of wondering when Tesco's closes tonight, and videos that were on TikTok 6 months ago. Hidden amongst all of this digital spam, you might even see a post from a friend. It'll probably have been posted a month ago, because, well, only Facebook know, but you'll see that Tracey hasn't changed. She's still harping on about being angry.com. You'll give her a heart reaction, mostly because you don't know how to choose any of the others, and then check in at A&E. Back in the good old days, you'd soon get sympathy and tears from people. But today, nothing. Well, maybe somebody popping up asking if you know why the police helicopter is flying overhead. Maybe come back in a few week's time and you might have had a response.

Earlier this year, you needed somebody to build you a new gate. So you got some carpenters in. They began making your gate to your chosen specification, but while doing so, they sang a merry little song. It was asking about why birds suddenly appear every time you are near? Carpenters, eh? Their ditty got you thinking about birds. How do they fly? Why are their eyes stuck to the sides of their heads? Why are they evil? Especially pigeons and seagulls - they're extra evil. It's while thinking about them and realising that they're evil that you remember that you have a phobia about them. It's called ornithophobia I'll have you know. This month, you will decide to face your fears and visit your doctor. Yes, you're scared of him too. When you get there, you will tell him about your rediscovered fear of birds and how your gate-building song-singing carpenters triggered it. Of course, because I told you it's called ornithophobia, and because you want to sound like you've done some research, you'll use this very word. Unfortunately, your doctor's getting on a bit and his hearing isn't the greatest. He'll think you said ombrophobia, which is an irrational fear of rain. He'll tell you to stay indoors, look at pictures of rain, and gradually expose yourself to light drizzle, but always have an umbrella handy just in case. Bizarre advice you will think, but you'll give it a go. Unsurprisingly, it won't work. In fact, you'll become both ornithophobic and ombrophobic. But at least you'll be dry most of the time. Every cloud, eh? Well, not rain clouds.

You've always wanted to be able to play an instrument, but being the sign of the crab, which probably isn't relevant but I'm saying it anyway to sound like a real astrologer, you've never done anything about it. That is until May 2025, which is now. You will discover that your mobile phone has an app built into it that contains a teeny mini piano-like keyboard on it. Oh yes, if only you had teeny fingers too, you could become a musical maestro on it. Unfortunately, your fingers are fairly average sized as far as finger sizes go. And because of this, each time you press a key, for that is what piano keyboard buttons are called, you'll actually press five. "Gah!" you will say "I don't like the sound of that." And that will be the end of your life-long desire to play a musical instrument. You'll close the app, delete it, and decide to focus on your second choice of life goal - juggling. Now, if you were actually a crab and had claws for fingers, you might find it easier to press one key at a time on the teeny tiny keyboard. But you're not, so you can't. But on the upside, crabs can't juggle. You win some, you lose some.

They say that diamonds are a girl's best friend. Having nothing better to do with your time, you will decide to test out this theory this month. You'll wander around town, go up to random people of the female persuasion, and ask them who their best friend is. Although many will find your question odd, some will even run away, you will also discover that none of them actually have a best friend called Diamond. The closest you got was a Ruby, but there were no other gems. Ha-ha! Ahem... Even so, and with nothing better to do with your time, you will decide that you need to find out who actually made up the saying and what research they actually did to form the basis of their statement. It was Marilyn Monroe apparently, in the film 'Gentlemen Prefer Blondes.' "Oooh" you will think. "That gives me a new idea." You'll return to town, walk up to people of the male persuasion, and ask them their preferred hair colours. Turns out they're not really that fussed - most are just interested in boobs. You will come to the conclusion that Marilyn Monroe just made stuff up.

One of the reasons that I was dragged out of hiding was because my publishers threatened to relaunch Psychic Jim, but with AI generating my horoscopes instead of me. Of course, how can you trust horoscopes that a computer has made up? If anyone's making up any horoscopes here, it going to be me. Not that I make them up of course. I interpret the position of stars and planets, and then draw my own conclusions. I definitely don't make them up. Anyway, because it's cold outside and I don't want to look at the stars and planets tonight, I thought I'd give AI a chance. I asked it to be me, and here's what it predicted for you.

"Virgo, the stars have aligned, but only because you insisted they do so in an orderly fashion. This month, you will attempt to "go with the flow," only to immediately question the efficiency of said flow and create a colour-coded system to optimise it. A small inconvenience - perhaps a smudged receipt or an incorrectly folded towel - will consume far more of your time than is reasonable. At work, someone will use "literally" incorrectly, and you will experience a brief but profound existential crisis. Mercury suggests an exciting opportunity may arise, but knowing you, you've already overanalysed every possible outcome, planned for failure, and pre-written your rejection email just in case. Expect a moment of deep relaxation to be ruined by a sudden need to reorganise your sock drawer."

Hmmmm.... I think my job's safe. For now.....

You know what's missing in your life? Love, that's what. Today though, people don't find dates in real life. Instead they find them in apps. This May, you'll download a dating app, take a picture of yourself holding a fish or sipping a glass of wine completing a run, because apparently that's attractive nowadays, say a few things about how you're genuine, you like travelling, you're easy-going, you like staying in, you enjoy roast dinners, you're a glass-half full kind of person. You'll then get to swiping right, left, left, right, right, left, up, down, diagonally, up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, B, A, and so on. Doing so might not get you a date straight away, but you'll unlock invincibililty or unlimited lives or something. But, before too long, some matches will start winking at you, or doing whatever they do, and you'll wink back, and they'll ask you how you are. And then you'll get scared off by the thought of commitment and ghost them instead.

On the first day of the month, which is coincidentally April Fool's Day so fits your personality perfectly anyway, you will play a stupid prank on a work colleague. You'll pour salt into their coffee. It won't be much, but it'll give you a chuckle. The following day, you'll do something stupider. You'll flag down buses, and then run away when they pull over. The day after, you'll take your level of stupid up a notch. You'll order a pint at your local pub, tip it over your head, and then walk out. On the day after, you'll hide fish in random places in your office. The subsequent day, you'll claim ownership of the moon and then try to put it up for sale. Each day, you will try to out-stupid yourself. Of course, all of this stupidity will end in tears when the tables are turned on you, Nobody will offer you drinks at work, buses won't stop for you, pubs won't serve you, you'll lose your job, and you'll be banned from lunar-related sales for six months. Somehow. Despite this, having mastered the art of out-stupiding yourself on a daily basis, you might actually become qualified for the job of American president. I'm pretty convinced the current one sits in the Oval Office each morning with a spoon of Cheerios in one hand, crayon in the other, and writes down ideas of how he can outperform his previous day's idiocy in his quest to turn his country into a global embarrassment. Oooh, topical.

Hmmm, apparently it's not April any more. Gah! Who sold me this dodgy calendar?

You know what I discovered when reading some of my old horoscopes recently? I spelled Sagittarius incorrectly in your logo for years! I used two Gs and one T. When I attended astrologer school, one of the first things we were taught was how to spell the signs of the zodiac. The second thing we were taught was how to write in vague and meaningless ways. I'm not really sure why. Anyway, your prediction for May is that something you've been wanting to happen may finally happen this month. It could be related to romance, money, luck, a job, love, wealth, family, friends. You'll know it if it happens and when it happens. Another thing that I see happening in May is rain. Or sunshine. Or clouds. Oh yes, I knew I wouldn't regret my investment in Astrologer School. They don't let anybody in you know. Well, actually, they do. They just need you to pay the fees, attend some classes, give yourself some kind of mystical name, and a few weeks later, you're a fully qualified astrologer.

They say that Capricorns are serious people. But are you? Well, yes, you are. Hmmm, this didn't really go as planned. Two seconds. So, I've just been outside again, had another look at the stars, and they've given me a bit more. They've told me that this month, you'll open up Excel, because it's something you do on a daily basis just to check that Microsoft haven't deleted it from your PC, and you'll create a spreadsheet. You like spreadsheets, and you have a spreadsheet for everything. The spreadsheet you'll create this month will be a spreadsheet of colours. What you'll do is go to cell A1, pick the darkest black from Excel's colour picker of delight, find its hex code, and type it into cell B1. You'll then go to cell A2, find the next colour above pure black in Excel's colour picker of delight, find its hex code, and type it into cell B2. Then you'll continue accordingly with A3 and B3, A4 and B4, A5 and B5. You'll then decide that a good use for column C would be to name the colours. So C1 will be Pure Black, C2 will be Just Off Pure Black, C3 will be Slightly lighter but still mostly Just Off Pure Black. C4 will be Almost Charcoal But Not Quite, C5 will be Lighter Than C4 But Darker Than C6. C7 will be grey. And you'll continue this until you've catalogued all of Excel's colours. It will keep you entertained for a good few hours. The best bit will be when you're coming up names for the greens. Oh, there are so many greens. Oh oh oh, and then, you'll give each colour a rating in column D of a score out of 100 for how much you like it. And you might even create a pivot table so you can, erm, pivot table them.

While weighing yourself on one rainy Tuesday morning in May, you will wonder what your scales actually weigh. So, you'll pop out to your local shop that sells scales, buy some scales, plop your old scales on top of your new ones, and discover their weight. You'll then weigh your new ones on top of your old ones, and you'll discover how much they weigh too. And you'll then know which ones weigh the most. Armed with this information, you'll give your best friend Diamond a call, and tell them. "Hey, did you know my scales weigh 1.79kg, but the ones I weighed them on weigh 1.86kg." You'll then talk about less interesting things, stuff like the weather, how much you miss The X-Factor, how you regret not being able to get tickets for the Girls Aloud reunion tour last year, why the police helicopter was flying above houses last night. Yes, it'll be quite a riveting Tuesday. Not up there with the best, but certainly not the worst. See, if you were a Capricorn, you'd probably have a spreadsheet with rankings for every Tuesday you've ever had, and know which one was the best ever and which was the worst. But you're an Aquarius so you don't. You have two sets of scales though which is handy, especially if you ever feel the need to weigh yourself and then get a second opinion.

The great chef Jamie Oliver Twist once said, "Food, glorious food!" He was, of course, talking about food. And food will be on your mind this month. You could say you have a thought for food. Or Food for thought? Erm, anyway, this food on your mind will inspire you to cook something. And just like all the famous chefs do on TV, you won't just cook it for yourself. You'll cook it for a load of random people that you don't actually know for a dinner party that you're having in a dining room that isn't actually yours. Yes, I was shocked when I discovered that Nigella's kitchen on 'Nigella's Kitchen' is actually a studio set and not her actual house, and that she doesn't actually sneak down to her fridge in the middle of the night to feast on leftovers. Of course, you aren't actually a very good chef. In fact, the extent of your cheffery doesn't really go much further than being able to mash some potatoes, mix in some grated cheese, stick some sausages into them and serve with a dollop of baked beans. You could of course be posh and call them a jus of baked beans. And even this won't be done to a particularly high standard. Your mash will be lumpy, sausage will resemble pieces of long charcoal, beans jus will be cold. But, you'll also discover that the dinner party guests aren't actually real dinner party guests - they're just camera crew and sound engineers and lighting technicians and suchlike, and they're just happy for a free meal. Oh it will be a dinner party to remember.