,

Horoscope for the week of February 11, 2004

You’ll fail to win your case against television, even though there is no disputing that it transported you to faraway places while you were trying to get laundry done.


Everything has to start somewhere. In spite of what you claim happened, the enraged bull elephant couldn’t have just “come out of nowhere.”

It’s beginning to look like you’ll never understand that ruffled skirts don’t look good with colored stockings, especially on men with legs like yours.

In a neat but unfortunate melding of rhetorical and actual elements, you’ll get stuck in a rut and wake up in a ditch this week.

You’re easy to talk to once people get to know you, but holding your personal audiences on a throne of bloody skulls tends to put them off at first.

While it’s true that anger sex is some of the best sex you’ve ever had, it’s still not a great way to resolve conflicts in the boardroom.

Economic trends are highly unpredictable, so don’t be alarmed when your head’s suddenly worth $10 million.

Relax: You’re not the first person to pray for help with your diet, only to have a jealous God send visions of delicious, creamy fudge.

The next time you decide to run amok at a dog show, the Holy Sisters of St. Augustine respectfully ask that you leave them out of it.

Remember that everyone has embarrassing moments, although it’s true what you say: Theirs don’t last for nine years.

It’s admirable that you’re not getting all paranoid, especially considering the fact that everyone is plotting to take away everything you have.

You know, maybe the fits are worth the hours of blissful unconsciousness afterwards.