Gradual, almost imperceptible change will make you a better person over the course of the next 37,000 years.
You say you’re not a cat person, but the graceful movements, the purring, and the fur give you away.
You will be fired for abusing your lighthouse-keeper position when passing ship captains grow weary of your sky-spanning vacation slides.
You never thought smoking in the forest endangered you, but that was before an angry Smokey decided to stop fucking around about the fire-prevention thing.
You have a right to be happy, but that might not outweigh the feelings of the dozens who so enjoy your misery.
The truth is indeed elusive, hard to comprehend, and subjective. What we’re trying to say is: You’re fat.
Uninvolved bystanders will witness your crime, but due to its graphic nature, they can no longer be considered “innocent.”
The stars, in their infinite variety, indicate both romance ahead for lucky Libra and the approximate age of the universe for competent astronomers.
You’ve always been a fashion-forward trendsetter, which is why, after next Thursday, they’ll all be saying that getting shot in the face is the new black.
Americans are tired of politics as usual, but no one ever gets tired of unanimous bipartisan actions against you.
Your personal tragedy will make people stop and think about how it’s equally tragic to die two days after retirement.
There’s no sense cutting costs when it comes to hiring a personal trainer, if your back-breaking weeks of helping people move are any guide.
