Your two pack-a-day habit will finally kill you this week, but then, that’s a lot of wolves to fight off.
Try listening to your body this week. It’s got a bunch of really great stories about hanging out with Jimmy Page.
Sure, they might blame you now, but how were you supposed to know the waters were unsafe at Everyone Always Gets Killed Beach.
After days of searching, you’ll finally find comfort this week. Just above “comforter,” and right below “confit.”
Internal bleeding is usually a sign of serious trauma, so relax, you and your blood-soaked clothes are totally fine.
By this time next year, you’ll be 400,000 dollars richer, two cars the better, and just as gullible as you are now.
Sometimes in life you just have to march right in there, introduce yourself, fight off a couple of rather large security guards, and demand a raise.
Remember: Guns aren’t toys. Except for the plastic toy kind. Or the high-powered rifle kind, which you can totally use to have a ton of fun.
The stars foresee a time of great uncertainty in the day to come. Also, the stars foresee a time of great covering their collective asses in the days to come.
All of your questions will be answered this week, moments after the zookeeper, the fire marshal, and the roller-coaster operator all tell you, “No.”
The attention is nice and all, but in the end, you put your pants on just like everyone else: One thirty million dollar cybernetic leg at a time.
What’s the matter? Couldn’t find your precious People magazine horoscopes this week? Oh, you want your fortune, do you? Here’s your fortune: Go die, asshole.
