You’re the kind of person who likes to have the right tool for the job, so don’t be caught without a complete set of dental picks this week.
You will soon be surrounded by medical personnel saying things like “Tzaarp!” “Ka-Blishzzht!” and “Flazzort!” in an effort to describe the sound of your body hitting the high-tension lines.
You will undergo an identity crisis when God claims that your name “just doesn’t sound right” and changes it.
You will suddenly find yourself in mid-November with a sign reading, “Six Months Later…” floating over your head.
Beware: Charlatans will try to pass off a bunch of vague generalizations as predictions of your future. Don’t trust them.
You will soon receive a big fat cashier’s check. Of course, this happens every two weeks, as you are a big fat cashier.
You always thought choosing the right robot would be an easy task… until the task fell to you.
Frankly, the stars don’t understand what your problem is with calamari. So what if it’s tentacles? It’s delicious! Eat it already!
A drunken run-in with an angry northwoods lumberjack ends in your being mortally wounded by his scathing put-downs and acid wit.
Today is not, in fact, the first day of the rest of your life. That was a few weeks ago. Today is Wednesday.
The planet Uranus rises in your sign and wants to know what you find so damn funny about the name Uranus.
The stars thank you for your submission, but, regrettably, they have no need for your “Pisces Is Nisces!” slogan at this time.
