Astounding as it seems, the transit of Saturn across your sign portends that you’ll have a decent time at RiverFest this weekend.
The authorities will eventually decide to release you on your own recognizance, which is almost certainly the cruelest thing they can think to do.
You’ll be trapped in a hell of your own making, forcing you to admit that you really should have put in more bathrooms.
Your belief that God does not play dice with the universe will be tested by the discovery of a 10,000-mile-long craps table on Jupiter.
Try as you might, you’ll never be able to convince FEMA that Baltimore was like that when you got there.
You’ll finally break the endlessly mounting tension at work when you cause the rollback of that aggravating “days without an accident” sign.
Once all the goats are rounded up, the German tourists are extradited, and the syrup trucks are returned, you’ll have to admit that you never saw that one coming.
Your promise to rebuild the world with blood, pain, and legal pot will resonate with the weirdest voting bloc yet recorded.
Some people believe your house in Heaven is filled with all the things you lost while on earth, which explains the dead pets lying everywhere.
You’ve never been a big fan of cigars, but if there’s a cooler-looking way to light all those fuses, you’re not aware of it.
The aliens will claim that our primitive language contains no word for the emotion they’re feeling, but that’s bullshit. They’re bored out of their skulls.
You’ll be unable to explain what you were doing drinking naked in the back of the frozen-fish truck, but you won’t have to. We’ve all been there.
