Horoscopes

By Tressa Versteeg

Aries (March 21-April 19): You will look the wrong way when you cross Grand, and consequently, the 63 bus will not be able to stop. Ouch. Taurus (April 20-May 20): This week, while walking across campus, you will be headed off by a pack of bears. Whatever you do, don’t start a forest fire.

Gemini (May 21-June 21): Your SPO will be full of yellow package slips and letters everyday this week. Man, it feels good to be a Gemini.

Cancer (June 22-July 22): This week, your letter from Hogwarts finally arrives! It seems the owls sent out 10 when you were kidnapped that were made into Beanie Babies. Those that survived have finally escaped and are just arriving now. Bring me back some chocolate frogs.

Leo (July 23-August 22): You are outraged when the first snow hits. Then suddenly, you realize you are trapped in a snow globe and have a much bigger problem. That’s what you get for hating snow.

Virgo (August 23-September 22): When you dumpster dive at Breadsmith tonight, your shirt will mysteriously light on fire. Don’t panic! Just stop, drop, and roll.

Libra (September 23-October 22): You will be abducted by the squirrels on your way to the library. Trust me, you will be thankful when they finally take over the school for good.

Scorpio (October 23-November 21): For years you’ve been waiting for the right time to change your backside flab into buns of steel. This week, you will be successful in your endeavor if you do the exercises with a native Pittsburghite.

Sagittarius (November 22-December 21): The planets will align in such a way that Tuesday at 2:02 a.m., you will spontaneously combust.

Capricorn (December 22-January 19): Sorry Capricorns, this week after your Mighty Ducks marathon, a bad Hitchcock sequel will take place when you take the quack cheer outside.

Aquarius (January 20-February 18): Early this week, while crossing Grand, you get hit by the 63 and for the remainder of the week you will suffer from an ongoing state of déj vou.

Pisces (February 19-March 20): While waiting for your date at a record store, you will be serenaded by a rope-tie wearing social reject, who wants to squeeze you, but won’t tease you. Lucky duck.