Your discovery of Ponce de Leon’s famed Fountain Of Youth will be marred by the unfortunate, simultaneous discovery of a half-dozen infants drowned in its waters.
Years after losing friends and family members to the obsession, you will finally admit that your life-long goal of becoming the Pythagoras of isosceles triangles is not worth the trouble.
The title of World’s Greatest Escape Artist will be passed from Houdini to you this week, after you escape not from handcuffs or a straightjacket, but from a loveless marriage with only the aid of vodka.
Your belief that humanity is growing too dependent on machines will finally be put to rest next week, when after three days of careful deliberation, your family members decide to take you off the respirator.
A weary mind can often be relieved with a simple change of scenery. Politely ask your captors if they would allow you to take a brief walk around the block.
It’s true that your talents and interests make you unique; however, some of the credit should go to your mother, for ingesting the thalidomide.
A leap of logic will result in the worst-selling novelty product of all-time and leave you stuck with a football-field-sized warehouse filled with real vomit.
The sense of hearing is often the first to go, but with you, it’s the sense of dignity.
The stars haven’t been feeling very comfortable with metaphors lately, but here goes: You will contract the HIV of sexually transmitted diseases this week.
A romantic hot-air-balloon ride will quickly sour when it becomes clear that you and your husband are guinea pigs in a dangerously amateurish meteorological experiment.
The results of next week’s medical exam will send a chill up your spine, or at least they would, if you were able to feel anything from the neck down.
Though the annual Chemistry And Engineering Institute Of Vermont Christmas celebration is weeks away, you’re already beginning to dread the laborious chore of whipping up a bowl of your famous homemade Cheetos.
