Tuesday, April 16, 2024
Horoscopes

Your Snoop Dogg, Grandpa Jones Asshole Buddies Birthday Horoscope

WEST CHESTER, Penna. – Born today you share a birthday—and, if you’re lucky, some birthday brownies—with rapper and human bong hit Snoop Doggy Dogg. Before you get all excited though, Skippy, you ought to know that you also share a birthday with Grandpa Jones, one of the “stars” of Hee-Haw, perhaps the greatest abomination ever to err on television. So instead of those brownies, Skipster, you might be feasting on a hearty helping of road kill pie with a family of inbred southerners who smell of urine and whose collective IQ is 145.Cancer (6/22-7/22): Increased zinc in your diet causes you to have a recurring nightmare in which you are the love child of fellow Cancers Mike Tyson and Nancy Reagan in a remake of Bedtime for Bonzo. The nightmares finally stop when Tyson is sent back to prison for head-butting Uncle Sam during Macy’s annual Thanksgiving Day parade.

Leo (7/23-8/22): One of the psychic Furbies at the Kenny Kingston website is Nicole Richie in a size-10 disguise. Because Leos are infamously susceptible to bogus advice, beware any recommendation that includes fasting or unisex bathrooms—and any psychic who begins shrieking if you hum the “Dancing with the Stars” theme.

Virgo (8/23-9/22): Your request to change your birth date legally so that it coincides with the Aztec calendar turns the worldwide judicial community on its briefs. Bill Gates likes the idea, however, and promptly releases Windows 8736 with a cool screen saver in which his face morphs into the image of the sun god.

Libra (9/23-10/23): Proctor and Gamble, the twin gods of discord, have rewired the thermostats in all the appliances in the constellation of Amana. Will Amana’s sacred hound, Algorithm, be able to reset the thermostats in time to save the Festival of the Swisher King and restore harmony to the zodiac? Your guess is as good as mine.

Scorpio (10/24-11/21): According to a one-eyed, hairless statue at a rest stop in New Jersey, when the raven flies over the House of Usher, mutant rays emanating from the planet Gilliganus will be reflected Earthward. You can keep your cosmic souffle from sinking by lining your house with aluminum foil and never looking directly at Michele Bachman.

Sagittarius (11/22-12/21): Sagittarians are ruled by the liver and the axillae. To maintain optimal health avoid fats, gravies, cream, butter, and chocolate. Consume Lucullan amounts of fruits and raw vegetables each day instead, after holding them under your armpits for fifteen minutes while jogging in place as you watch a Richard Simmons Sweating to the Oldies DVD—if you can find one.

Capricorn (12/22-1/19): According to the Random Actuarial Profile, where “10” equals “dead-bolt cinch” and “0” equals “dead in the water,” your critical numbers for this week are: communicable disease, 8; grace under fire, 3; meets the criteria, 2; plays well with others, 1; inappropriate response 9; soils bed clothes, 6; cannot recommend for advancement, 8.

Aquarius (1/20-2/18): Your family makes headlines when the ghost of Betty Crocker appears at a cooking ware demonstration in your rec room with a recipe for apple pan dowdy that will bring peace to the world. Senile Aunt Edna, claiming that Crocker pinched the recipe from her, throws a rolling pin that passes through Crocker, shattering a valuable Princess Di thermometer.

Pisces (2/19-3/20): Following routine gender-modification surgery, your dog acquires a thought balloon visible to everyone he meets. You seize the opportunity and write a best-selling book about canine humor. You come to grief on the Ellen show, however, when your dog thinks, “She looks way more butch in person” and thousands of angry lesbians eat your shrubbery.

Aries (3/21-4/19): In an ideal world politicians would always tell the truth, children would always have enough to eat, and no one would have to live in a place without high-speed internet access or decent Chinese takeout. Until prayer, fasting, and good works have given birth to such a world, change your password frequently.

Taurus (4/20-5/20): Your sex life is a shareware program about to expire. One-size-fits-all gloves don’t come in your size. If dreams took human form, yours would be wearing toe tags. The planets, the traffic lights, even the local Salvation Army band are aligned against you. Have you insulted one of the mothers of the gods recently or what?

Gemini (5/21-6/21): Gemini is one vowel short of imagine, but don’t let this keep you from announcing that the best way to solve this country’s energy problems is by turning the clocks back two hours this year. Europeans, at least, will think the plan has some merit, which is only one consonant short of metric.    

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