,

Horoscope for the week of February 19, 2003

An unusual series of events will teach you to never underestimate the abilities of a master Ninja or pastry chef.


You will soon be forced to admit that your entire emotional range can be conveyed with a set of cleverly arranged punctuation marks.

The Spam Museum will seem a lot less fun and kitschy when you are put on permanent display.

Though it’s true that you live a life of quiet desperation, with the right shabby clothes and scruffy beard, it could get you all the chicks.

There will be no monuments or memorials to mark your tragic and violent death during next week’s bloody revolution in floor coverings.

Religious turmoil looms large in your future as a vengeful God once again refuses to bless that mess.

You will finally acknowledge that being known as “America’s Best-Kept Secret In Horribly Deformed Freaks” is kind of a mixed blessing.

This week’s mishap won’t set your zookeeping career back much. Anyone could have mistaken Tyne Daly for a majestic silverback lowland gorilla.

You don’t want anything to come between you and your cats. Luckily, given your obesity and the tininess of your trailer, it’s not physically possible.

You will be faced with the unenviable task of telling somebody that they have lost that loving feeling without breaking into song.

While it’s true that love means different things to different people, you’ll be saddened by how many people think it includes shiny objects.

Newton’s laws say that for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction, proving he knew nothing about women.