Posted here for general awesomeness.
My horoscope for the week:
Sagittarius (Nov. 22-Dec. 21)
You're in your living room, sulking and folding socks. There's a knock at the door, and you open it a crack. "Good evening," says John Adams, founder of the New World. He hands you a bouquet of roses. "Here are the flowers, and I have to tell you. . ." He looks at a wrinkled piece of paper. ". . .stop being so broody!" The socks drop to the floor. You blink a lot. ". . .Broody?" He looks ruffled. "Yes, broody. The mood that would befit a mother hen. Nestish, mawkish, dithering, morbid. Basically, lighten up!" He folds the paper in thirds and pockets it, sniffs, turns on his heel and walks down the hall. You decide to go out for a walk, and put on your shoes. You run into him in the foyer. "Forgot to mention," he says in a friendly way, "If you don't stop being broody, I've been instructed to hit you with a frying pan. Bye!"
(from Nerve.com)
Sagittarius (Nov. 22-Dec. 21)
You're in your living room, sulking and folding socks. There's a knock at the door, and you open it a crack. "Good evening," says John Adams, founder of the New World. He hands you a bouquet of roses. "Here are the flowers, and I have to tell you. . ." He looks at a wrinkled piece of paper. ". . .stop being so broody!" The socks drop to the floor. You blink a lot. ". . .Broody?" He looks ruffled. "Yes, broody. The mood that would befit a mother hen. Nestish, mawkish, dithering, morbid. Basically, lighten up!" He folds the paper in thirds and pockets it, sniffs, turns on his heel and walks down the hall. You decide to go out for a walk, and put on your shoes. You run into him in the foyer. "Forgot to mention," he says in a friendly way, "If you don't stop being broody, I've been instructed to hit you with a frying pan. Bye!"
(from Nerve.com)