You’ll finally be contacted by your long-lost birth parents, but the nine signatures on the letter bring about more questions than answers.
You will be requested by the President’s Special Commission For The Study Of Television to hold the rabbit ears just like that until
Most of the people who told you to “just believe in yourself” didn’t realize that you think you’re the illegitimate son of Osiris and the Michelin Man.
Your efforts to start a new religion in which you’re worshipped as the messiah would go farther if you didn’t have long hair, a beard, and stigmata.
It turns out that your weakness isn’t the color yellow after all, but bullets, knives, and angry packs of badgers.
You still have no idea what makes women tick, despite having asked literally hundreds of watchmakers.
You’ve asked the man in the mirror to change his ways, but he only responds by howling like a fiend and force-feeding you shards of broken glass.
In spite of the circumstances that brought you together, it would deeply hurt the executioner if you took it personally.
You’ll suffer the kind of low-down, yellow-dog, non-poetic blues that inspire people to urinate on you while you lie weeping in the gutter.
While it’s true that God’s plan cannot be known by men, be assured that at no time has it ever had anything to do with you.
Though they say you can never step in the same river twice, you’ll find that you
You will soon come to appreciate the little things in life, such as the amount of it you have left.
