You’ll be indicted on seven counts of outsider trading this week. It’s not a crime, but the SEC just wanted to see you sweat.
Your life’s accomplishments will greatly enrich the human race, but 100 years from now, you’ll mostly be judged by the crappy font on your tombstone.
Your popularity skyrockets next week when you’re smothered in barbecue sauce and bacon and offered as a Southwest Rodeo Whopper at Burger King.
You’ll finally get around to the important and long-delayed business of calling that toll-free number right now.
The dread specter of your own mortality will loom over you all month, but you’ll be so busy remodeling your kitchen that you’ll hardly notice.
You’ll once again avoid becoming a household name this week, except in the more perverted households.
You’ve often compared your tribulation-filled life to that of Job, but as you’ll soon discover, God gave a much better speech to him.
Rough times lie ahead of you in the financial and personal arenas when you’re suddenly cut from 50 Cent’s entourage.
The ACLU will officially state that protected speech is all fine and good, but they’re tired of jumping up every time you open your mouth.
It’s time to rid yourself of the fallacious belief that kids or animals or anyone else likes you.
No amount of money can solve your current problems, which is really odd because they’re mostly hunger-, shelter- , and food-related.
You will remember with bitterness the days when all you wanted were good seats at the airshow.
