Both your mind and a locomotive run on rails, are difficult to maintain, and make chugging noises, but after that, the analogy starts to break down.
You were right about the existence of a 10th planet, but don’t be smug: Your claims about a race of cat-women who thirst for your seed was way off.
Mark Twain said moving house twice equals one house fire, so it looks like Fate owes you a couple house moves.
Arguments over the relative merits of football and soccer are rendered moot next week, when aliens challenge us to a bizarre hybrid of both games with the fate of the earth at stake.
The surgeons are unclear on exactly why you need a titanium plate implanted in your ass, but hey… gift horses.
A fateful chess match with Death looms in your future, so you might want to replace that tacky
It won’t really do you any good, but it’s very stirring nonetheless when you remember the Alamo, the Maine, and Pearl Harbor during your audit.
The principle of entropy says that all systems tend toward disorder, so just think of what happens to your legs next week as a natural, universal constant.
You’re tired of all these narrow escapes with your life, so next week’s gas-truck accident will be sort of a relief.
It’s often a mistake to try and make learning fun, as you’ll prove next week during your combined fireworks-safety/defensive-driving demonstration.
You may think your life is due for big changes, but the unknowable cosmic forces in control of your fate don’t.
An important warning sticker will be missing this week. The stars can’t tell you where it should be, but it should say “Caution: Rotating Knives.”
