Taurus April 20 - May 20
Enrique, a failed Spanish matador (he was gored in the early days of training by a sheep and forever cast out of Spain), appears at your door this week.
Your red cape and funny-looking hat send him into fits of screaming there on your stoop.
Some time later, seated in your parlour, after he's calmed down and attempted to give you a copy of Watchtower (he attempted this after you gave him a seat), he sighs loudly, and begins telling his life story... and the story of his brief dream of being a matador.

Leo July 23 - August 22
You spot the new sign on the block, Eclectic Banjo Tomatoes, giving advice to an Aries on the street corner.
You're slightly offended, until you remember that you're a Leo, and not an Eclectic Banjo Tomatoe... still, you can't help feeling jealous.

Virgo August 23 - September 22
A broken water main diverts the newly motivated Virgo (motivated to govern her charges week, by what, we won't, or can't, say) from actually influences your week in any helpful way, though your shower drain appears to be working well.
Electric Bandit Wizard bakes you a cake.

Gemini May 21 - June 20
The cottony-taste in your mouth on Tuesday will be due to the fact you've woken up that morning as a cotton gin.
I'll grant you, it's not Kafka.

Capricorn December 22 - January 19
You get a bucket, some soap powder, and a good, sturdy mop this week.
Waltzing Coconut whistles softly in the corner.

Cancer June 21 - July 22
You will acquit yourself well with a toothpick and brush as your only defense against plaque.
Plaque's older brother, plague, gets you, though, despite repeated pokes with a toothbrush and a dousing with a fortuitous (had it worked) cup of mouthwash.

Pisces February 19 - March 20
Water buffalo, all of whom are named 'Bill' (coincidence, they tell you), offer to graze your lawn this week, to save you the expense of having to hire someone to do it.
When you point out your absence of a lawn, they take it reasonably well.

Aries March 21 - April 19
People in houses on fire shouldn't throw stones either, as there's a good chance firemen aren't going to be too keen on approaching a house with someone inside throwing stones back out at them.

Libra September 23 - October 22
If you're able, eat vegetables this week, preferably water chestnuts.
If you are unable, you'd better have a damn good note explaining why not.

Scorpio October 23 - November 21
The International Board of Horoscopal Integrity and Wise Cheese sends you an authorised note of greeting.
At least, you assume it's from them, as the stationary is a Horoscopal Board of Integrity and Wise Cheese shade of blue, and has 'Hi' written on it in friendly letters, which is rather their style.

Sagittarius November 22 - December 21
The stapler questions you mercilessly (and you know it was merciless as you'd asked for it a few times, after you'd been refused use of the toilet and a quick phone call) about your involvement in the 'Rutabaga Incident', as he's (you're assuming the stapler is a he, at any rate, it seems appropriate in this case) calling it.
Not knowing all that much about rutabagas, and only having one experience which might be deemed a 'Rutabaga Incident', you have to protest.
Finally, it turns out that the young, foolish, and now perilous, you discover, time you taunted a rutabaga after accidentally stepping on it when traversing a field of rutabagas, is the incident to which the stapler is referring. Rico the GummyBear had nothing to do with it.

Aquarius January 20 - February 18
I have spent the entire time writing these things attempting to get a jar of nacho chilli cheese flavour dip open (hence the references to cheese in the horoscopes and the main issue's subconscious reference to nachos... I was a tad vocal about the stupid bloody jar of dip, and threatened to throw it at one point); I tried banging it on things, running it under the tap, wrestling it in all manners and contortions, despite ridicule, pleading with it, rolling it along the floor (which almost caused another workplace accident), tossing it lightly off the wall, staring at it, and again banging it off the table. I'm not even entirely sure it was any one of those that got it off, in the end, it just seemed to come off of it's own accord (and my twisting the lid, of course). Nice.
Your week will squirm.

[Horoscopes. Text, woohoo! Okay, so not much this week. Public service link.]