Aries (March 21-April 19)
Finding a mitten in a snow bank strangely leads to your sex-change operation and eventual bankruptcy. Your chili recipe incorporating yak meat is a big hit at a meeting for periodontists. The guy at the reception, who handed you a business card with "Obama Transition Team" handwritten on it, is just trying to start a party in your pants. The water skiing squirrel comes into your life in an unexpectedly personal way.
Taurus (April 20-May 20)
The appearance of Joe the Plumber at your company's Christmas party evokes gales of silence. Giggling at a friend's designer knee socks puts your relationship in the deep freeze. Your choice of the Nazi anthem "Horst Wessel Song" as your cell ringtone should be rethought. Not even the greatest advances in stem cell research could have prevented you from becoming such an asshole.
Gemini (May 21-June 21)
Your dream about Bill Belichick causes you to wet the bed. A mid-winter taffy pull ends tragically. You accept that grossly unfair $2 million cut to your $75 million year-end bonus only because you know times are a little tough and you have the heart of a lion. The effects of cabin fever causes you to wear women's clothing but it's okay, since you're a woman.
Cancer (June 22-July 22)
A concussion from a toboggan accident leads you to believe that you are Ralph Lauren. Lean times force you to rent your teen suite to a sociopath who shows a little too much interest in your Rubbermaid items. Allergies put the kibosh on your plan to take a walk on the wild side. Your performance of "Paradise by the Dashboard Light" is a tour-de-force at a New Year's Eve party, but you are institutionalized later that night.
Leo (July 23-August 22)
A woman in a parking lot mistakes you for her gastroenterologist, resulting in an uncomfortable conversation. Terrell Owens goes off on you after a Dallas Cowboy loss in December. Googling you, your kids discover major holes in your backstory. The office manager overhears you discussing her puppy fat and chucks a Dymo Label Maker at you.
Virgo (August 23-September 22)
A cookie bake-off at your child's elementary school turns positively Kafka-esque. The fistfight at the quilting bee leaves your reputation in tatters. Some friends come around at twelve with some Puerto Rican girls that are just dying to meet you. A local nail salon staffed by zombies ruins your special makeover day.
Libra (September 23-October 23)
Your Power Point presentation on elves prompts a fawning phone call from a Keebler executive named Rufus. Jury duty ends badly when your nose picking on behalf of the defense causes a mistrial. Rahm Emanuel calls you by mistake and shouts at you to "get the fuck on board or get the fuck out of the way." A date with Amy Winehouse gives you an embarrassing stiffie.
Scorpio (October 24-November 21)
That portrait of you by Annie Liebovitz on the cover of the latest Vanity Fair SO doesn't capture your essence. Branding your cellmate's buttock with the image of dancing Snoopy doesn't create the desired effect. A reader's comment on your blog compels you to re-evaluate your entire existence. Your scattershot involvement in a Bee Gees museum project is a source of aggravation to loved ones.
Sagittarius (November 22-December 21)
An unstable pharmacist humiliates you over your hemorrhoid medication. Angelina Jolie comes on to you at a holiday party, but your cavalier remark about the pigs-in-a-blanket sends her off in a huff. Your blues tune about eating Raisin Bran becomes a major hit for an indie polka band. Taking a class in medieval tampon storage pays big dividends in future endeavors.
Capricorn (December 22-January 19)
A flirtation with the server at the coffee shop isn't helped by you repeatedly calling her a "Sandinista." You realize that today you have a final in a class you didn't realize you were registered for, but you can't find your locker to get the textbook and even if you could, you can't remember the combination. Your drunken imitation of David Caruso talk-singing "Born to Be Wild" blows any chance you had at getting laid, ever again.
Aquarius (January 20-February 18)
Your phrase "tickling the baboon" becomes an online sensation, though no one, not even you, is exactly sure what it means. The upper peninsula of Michigan asks you to lead its secessionist movement. Your grown grandchildren find your assertion that you were once a member of the Cure difficult to accept. Your careless reading of the directions on a male supplement leaves you with teeny, tiny testicles.
Pisces (February 19-March 20)
You get the odd notion that your dog would enjoy wearing a toupee. Your pre-arranged date, who turns out to be a chainsaw-wielding Ted Nugent, gives you a sense of unease. Fate takes an ironic turn on you in the Incontinence Needs aisle of your local CVS. Your questionable behavior at a botanical garden benefit earns you the unwelcome nickname "Weepy McPervert."
E-mail: erictbroder@yahoo.com