I just read my horoscope. What a joke! It’s all so vague and ambiguous. Wouldn’t it be nice to have your horoscope be a little more exact? A little more accurate and concise? Well, I’ve written these before and I know exactly what I’m doing. My horoscopes (which I call ‘horrible-scopes’) usually have between a 5 percent and 95 percent accuracy rate.
So here we go . . .
ARIES: Even though you’re near the end of the most difficult “spiritual-journey” of your life, be prepared for a difficult and somewhat boring “spiritual-unpacking” . . . and don’t take it personally, Aries, but someone had to be the cutoff point as to who gets left off of the Emergency-Earth-Escape-Rocket next Friday. Sorry, maybe next time.
TAURUS: Although you’ve never believed that “love conquers all,” that will all change tomorrow when “Love” invades your land, enslaves your citizens and sows all of your fields with salt. And Venus is descending in your sign this week, but you’re probably better off not knowing exactly what that really means. Let’s just say that you should steer clear of pancakes for a while, OK?
GEMINI: Your fairy godmother will hear your pleas and will appear to you in your bedroom, only she will merely sit in the corner of the room holding a ball-peen hammer and a melon baller, and she will be hissing and growling. Next time be more careful what you wish for.
CANCER: By the end of the week you’re going to have to apologize to the police department, the local fire chief, the owner of the barber shop, the head zookeeper and all those poor little Cub Scouts. And whatever you do, stay away from that jar of sea monkeys!
LEO: Due to poor quality control, unwise spending and a lack of attention to detail, Consumer Reports has rated Leo 12th out of all 12 zodiac signs. Dead last! It’s not all your fault, but there’s nothing you can do about it now. The good news is that it’s Truck Month at your local Ford dealer . . . and you know what that means: free balloons!
VIRGO: It looks like you will become the “world’s greatest parent,” but only after you visit the Dollar Store and buy that coffee cup that states that you are the “world’s greatest parent.” Congratulations! Oh, and your car keys are in the bathroom next to the jar of Q-tips.
LIBRA: You’re going to wake up and find yourself suddenly in mid-April and holding up a sign that reads, “Five Months Later.” Email me and let me know what happened, would you?
SCORPIO: You’ll meet your maker this week, but don’t worry, because according to your model number and serial code, your maker is actually the GloboTech Corporation. You’ll actually be recalled for a few minor repairs due to a faulty exhaust system, and you know exactly what I’m talking about, stinky pants.
SAGITTARIUS: Your creativity will be at an all-time high this week, so make sure you have a glue gun and plenty of macaroni, glitter, popsicle sticks and empty orange juice cans. (I could really use a new pencil holder . . . hint, hint.)
CAPRICORN: A very peculiar incident involving you, a banjo, six cantaloupes, a stepladder, a goat on a trampoline and seven toothbrushes will result in your being featured as a very rare case in U.S. medical textbooks. Good times! Good times!
AQUARIUS: It’s well documented that salmon are known for traveling thousands of miles across the ocean, then swimming up rivers and streams, hurdling obstacles and waterfalls in the process, just to spawn and lay eggs, so it will come as a huge surprise when hundreds of them show up at your doorstep this week. Many of them will ask to use the toilet, and they probably won’t be very polite about it. Some will ask to use the bathtub. Just do as they say and no one will get hurt.
PISCES: This Friday, you will finally learn the true meaning of “friendship” when a total stranger hands you a dictionary. Also, you need to be wary of a band of illegal ivory traders who are paying keen interest in your huge, oddly-shaped collarbone.
Reach the mystical C.W. Plunkett at firstname.lastname@example.org.