The stars were going to warn you about next Friday, but they’ve decided it would be funnier if you found out about the goats yourself.
You’ll finally lose your virginity this week, though unfortunately for you, it will be to an active volcano.
They say no news is good news, but you’re beginning to suspect there’s a reason why those doctors keep avoiding your calls.
Embarrassment will be yours this week when you’re caught peeking over someone’s shoulder during an important test. The fact that it’s a urine test also won’t help.
Your interest in temporal paradoxes ends almost before it begins this week, which considering the subject matter, is strangely fitting.
Exposure to bursts of gamma radiation will soon leave you with the tumor-growing ability of 10 regular men.
You’ve always believed yourself to be filled with self-hatred, but as it turns out you’re actually filled with half self-hatred, half triple-fudge ice cream.
While you admit you’ve made some mistakes in the past, the clockwork regularity and strangely detached manner in which you do so is really starting to freak people out.
Your health will continue to decline this week due to your tendency to catch every little sniffle, cough, and axe that comes your way.
Due to a series of budgetary cutbacks, your horoscope will be the same as Virgo’s until further notice.
Remember: A man is often known by the company he keeps. Take immediate action to shut down Wanton Bigotry, Inc.
Your grisly death beneath a pile of cinnamon rolls this week will prove true one of Nostradamus’ least likely prophecies.
