If people call you cold and unfeeling, remind them how long and hard you cried over that dead Bee Gee.
You are excited to learn about the bank machines that hand out money. But, like most things in the big city, it’s not as great as it sounds.
You’ve heard the phrase “Dead men tell no tales,” but you sure wish someone had told the overly talkative zombie sitting next to you on the plane.
All those people who think a person can’t be both creative and productive now have you as proof.
Next week, you will find yourself in an office romance. Unfortunately, all the female employees will have been replaced by shrieking drag queens.
You’ll be excited to learn that you will be one of the items included in the gift bags at this year’s Oscars.
The good news is, at long last, your time machine works. The bad news is that you won’t be lying about being a disabled Vietnam veteran anymore.
Remember: A bend in the road isn’t the end of the road. By the way, do you have to be told fucking everything?
You will soon be in demand among domestically oriented women when it turns out you’re made of Corian, a desirable countertop material.
A drunk Willie Nelson will call you at 3 a.m. to “apologize,” but then spends an hour complaining that no one knows he wrote “Crazy.”
After experiencing a sudden and profound shift in priorities, you spend all your time making love instead of money, causing you to die exhausted and penniless.
Your name will soon be used as a stirring rallying cry for the installation of airbags on brick walls.
