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Horoscope for the week of June 8, 2005

Your constant back-talking to the manager and theft of company property would seem like grounds for firing, but due to irresponsible bookkeeping, they’ll be cited as the reason for your company’s jump in profits.


You’ll be forced to run more than 50 miles by some cruel bastard who’ll rig your hat with a fiendish device consisting of a candy bar, a piece of string, and a six-foot stick.

You’ve always feared you might run into a problem that can’t be fixed by the lessons learned in Tom T. Hall’s lyrics, and now that you’ve been appointed the new U.S. Trade Representative, that day is finally here.

You’re being subjected to lots of unwanted criticism as the new kid in your high school, but you should be able to handle the pressure better, considering you’re 34.

You must learn to stop screaming “Rape! Rape!” at the top of your lungs. Everyone can see perfectly well what you’re doing without the grandstanding narration.

You have a remarkably addictive personality, which is why junkies keep trying to extract it from your skull and inject it.

The authorities are aware that you’re struggling with your own manhood and how it relates to our phallocentric society, but please, just return the Wienermobile.

You thought you were so great with the clever wordplay, but as everyone else figured out long ago, you’ve just been unwittingly reciting Cole Porter lyrics.

The movements of Saturn rising through your sign in combination with various solar-zodiacal harmonics indicate many complex changes, but basically women are going to start throwing shit at you.

Voyager 1 is rapidly approaching the very outer edge of the solar system, although its radio transmissions simply refer to the distance as “almost far enough away from you.”

While it’s true that a certain software giant stole its graphic user interface from a smaller computer company, it stole its tendency to get locked up repeatedly from you.

You bring about a revolution in meaningless chitchat this week when you engage in small talk so miniscule it can’t be detected by non-golfers or people outside of upper management.