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.
