You will enjoy money, fame and the respect of daytime-TV watchers everywhere for your stint as avuncular, no-nonsense Judge Virgo.
Sometimes it is best to simply let events unfold. However, doing so for the last 25 years was probably a mistake.
Confusion is yours this week when, upon second reading, you realize that Ayn Rand’s The Fountainhead is not an erupting volcano of erotic imagery.
The inaccuracy of your last 17 horoscopes finally leads you to a inescapable conclusion: You are actually a Libra.
You will travel back in time this week to kill Hitler’s parents, but you wind up shooting the wrong couple and return to a world that has never known Orville Reddenbacher.
Your tendency to solve problems with your fists will come in handy while learning trigonometry.
You awake from your 10-year coma to discover that former heavyweight boxer Jerry Quarry still insists he is not your mommy.
Though you have always been willing to die for the things you believe in, you never thought it would happen so soon, so violently, and over something as trivial as the tooth fairy.
You will be sorely tempted this week by filet of sole braised in sauce l’orange, new potatoes almondine, and petit crepes Bruxelles.
You will find yourself betrayed by science this week when you discover that, in certain cases, it contradicts the teachings of your personal Lord and Savior, L. Ron Hubbard.
Your car, along with those of seven others, will be destroyed this week by a bomb cleverly concealed inside an Irishman.
You are utterly unprepared psychologically for next Tuesday.
