If your birthday is this week:  Today you will get really drunk, take the best dump of your life and the worst visit to a department store dressing room.

Aries: The fortune cookies have been lying to you.  The only lucky number is 7.

Taurus: You will run into an old acquaintance while backing out of your driveway.  You should really get the rear view mirror fixed.

Gemini: The stars say, you can only avoid the spoilers for Game of Thrones for so long.  Get Netflix soon.

Lemini:  Really?  You’re still checking your horoscope?  Haven’t you figured out your life is shit by now?

Cancer:  Romance is at the top of the list this week, especially since the Mayor of the Massage Parlor on Foursquare.

Leo: This week, you’ll let a fart go while sitting on a white couch, but it won’t be a fart.

Virgo:  The underpants gnomes return your underwear this week.  Apparently, the skid marks are bad for profit.

Libra:  You will confirm that the zombie apocalypse hasn’t happened yet, so you shot all those bums for nothing.

Scorpio:  You will discover that your coupon for a skid of condoms has expired, but Trojan honors it anyway.

Sagittarius: Mark Zuckerberg will personally message you to ask you to stop posting pictures of your baby.

Capricorn:  The stars say, stop tweeting whatever it is you’re eating.  No one cares.

Aquarius:  The TSA will stop you at the gate and question your choice of shirt and pants combo.

Pisces:  You will have a car accident that somehow leads to free ice cream for a year.