Taurus April 20 - May 20
This is going to get quite ugly, I have a feeling. (That may or may not be a preface to the entire horoscope sheet this week.)
On Tuesday, with stars in your eyes (and guiding your future) you'll walk into a lamppost. Which will hurt, though not in any sort of permanently crippling manner. A kindly stranger, helping you out, will stoop to offer their assistance, and when they do they look deep, deep into your eyes and upon doing so are completely and utterly blinded, as everyone knows you're not supposed to look directly at the stars when they're too close up.
Which is an excellent opportunity to throw them down and have your way with them (kindly not necessarily precluding them from being attractive, as well).

Leo July 23 - August 22
You're still stuck in Greenland. Sorry.
An emu has been tagging along with you for the better part of the week, however, and you feel you might be able to be friends, if only you could break down the deeply ingrained anti-emu-friend lessons you'd learned as a youth.

Virgo August 23 - September 22
The phrase "puppies from heaven" never came into popular usage, despite your intense lobbying for it to become a pop culture 'hip phrase', as they're known, following your faux pas at a swish party.
You'd know the reason why your lobbying was fruitless if you have ever seen the havoc a slew of puppies falling from the sky causes and if you knew of the cabal working to keep such a phrase out of the common domain and the horrible secret behind it and it's^[1] usage.

Gemini May 21 - June 20
Vegetable soup is not art. Especially not wearable art.
However, both three year olds and, this week, yourself, apparently have not gotten that memo.

Capricorn December 22 - January 19
A new lease on Life is not the same as a new lease on a car.
For one thing, the interest rates are slightly higher on the Life Lease.

Cancer June 21 - July 22
I would take the utmost care in picking your lottery numbers this week, as if, perchance, you choose a certain combination it'll spell out the secret name of God the cabalists (not the ones mentioned above, different group) have been trying to come up with and the world will end.
And you'll still not have won the lottery, so you'll end up being not rich, unpopular for having ended the world, and possibly feeling guilty about that.

Pisces February 19 - March 20
People are trying to smear you with bananas this week.
Either wear clothes that bananas come out of easily or try and outrun them.

Aries March 21 - April 19
Amazing. In a Handel's Messiah kind of way.
Your week will involve thirteen chickens, a bucket of soap, seven candles, a jelly, and a soap tray.
What you do with them will be a sign of your ingenuity and a harbinger of things to come and probably prosperity and some other sort of thing.
If you are in New Orleans, if I may offer a word of warning, you will be accused of practising voodoo. The same holds true for Vienna, for some reason.

Libra September 23 - October 22
If you're happy and you know it go "Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeee."
That way other people will know it, too, if they know that you going "Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeee" means you're happy.
(Inflection and tone may vary, void if prohibited by law, don't eat parsnips on Sundays.)

Scorpio October 23 - November 21
You have a big fat nothing for a horoscope.
Coincidentally, a big fat nothing will feed a family of four comfortably.

Sagittarius November 22 - December 21
We realise the mathematical hijinks in the previous horoscope (or non-horoscope, as the case may be) may cause some consternation amongst Naught-fearing mathematical sorts.
And rightly so, because it's managed to replace your horoscope with a cheetah this week.

Aquarius January 20 - February 18
Neglecting the voices in your head (the bulk of which are saying "Don't be cruel to animals or people with large, pointy teeth," though there are a few reciting "Paradise Lost" in German, which you didn't realise the voices knew, and one rather annoying one that's singing Barry Manilow tunes. Badly. Yeah, I know. You see why it's annoying, then.) may result in you becoming a vampyre.
Which is going to pretty much forever ruin your chances of getting on well with Buffy.

[Horoscopes. GZigZag!. Ted Nelson's ZigZag given a Java implementation.]

[NB. [1] Continuing in our endearing trait of not espousing the particular grammatical rule that posession for inanimate objects is different than animated ones.

I swear with all my heart and soul, if it takes my very last breath and squashes it out like a butterfly flying into a toaster or electric fence or active volcano, this will not be becoming a regular feature. Damnit.]