The residents of your community form a torch-lit mob and appear on your doorstep demanding a glass of milk.
Your hospital bills skyrocket when the International Toughman Competition replaces its locomotive-pulling event with one called “Turn The Aries Inside-Out With Your Bare Hands.”
Your mail-order sweater business will be such a success that you can finally afford that second refrigerator you’ve always dreamed of.
The world of Irish performing arts is turned upside-down when a newly discovered ancient Gaelic scroll reveals that you are the true Lord of the Dance.
You are such an expert on the subject of sex that people begin referring to you as a “sexpert.”
Despite a stunning full-color swimsuit photo of you for the month of May, the 1998 Big Fat Asshole calendar sells just two copies.
You will enjoy newfound popularity in Mainland China due to their belief that you are a powerful aphrodisiac when ground up and put in tea.
You will be financially, physically and emotionally destroyed after years of superstitious belief in astrology.
You are fired from your job at the Piercing Pagoda after botching a customer’s scrotal-barbell insertion in full view of hundreds of mallgoers.
Despite the efforts of U.S. Sen. Trent Lott (R-MS), your famous lemon cookies remain legal in 46 states.
The ghost of Charles Kuralt appears before you and asks to borrow your tape of this week’s
You are out of pencils, and the only pencil store in town closes in less than five minutes.
