Your remarkable talent for procrastination will result in your winning the Nobel Prize For Literature Thrown Together At The Very Last Possible Minute.
Your new romantic partner will turn out to be the best thing ever to happen to you. Please notice that we said “thing,” not “person.”
You really ought to have a close friend or family member explain the function of that roll of soft paper that hangs by the toilet as soon as possible.
Your view of history as a nightmare from which you are trying to escape seems awfully pretentious, as no one will remember you five minutes from now.
The lifetime supply of Twinkies you won in that contest turns out to be only half a box, indicating that the Hostess corporation knows something you don’t.
The stars foretell a glorious and prosperous future for you during this year’s Zodiacal Sweeps Week.
Technically, what you’re having is not a shotgun wedding. Those are when someone else has the shotgun.
You will be banned from the nation’s highways after catastrophically failing your federally mandated crash test.
Though your dietary habits are disgusting beyond description, it is probably unfair to apply human standards to a turkey vulture like yourself.
“In Between Days” is the best Cure song. That’s all there is to it, and Capricorn doesn’t want to hear any different.
The psychologists running the tests are repulsed by the strength of your attraction to the wire mother.
Don’t bother lying to the police when they pull you over next Friday. They’ll have already figured out that the tank was stolen.
