Taurus April 20 - May 20
Don't throw the baby out with the bathwater this week, is what the stars have to say to you.
Regardless, you should have no fear of extending the metaphor to prevent you from tossing out old pizza boxes for fear of throwing out one last bit of cheese you might have missed. Or a baby, should you be in the habit of keeping babies in pizza boxes around your house.

Leo July 23 - August 22
This week you learn to crochet (after much prompting of the emu to try and teach you again).
By Thursday you've crocheted yourself a boat, and prepare to set sail under cover of darkness, away from your friendship with an emu that frightens you.
Unfortunately, under the cover of darkness you manage to sail your fine boat into a tree, having not put it down in the water. The emu finds you the following morning and, needless to say, isn't terribly impressed.

Virgo August 23 - September 22
You should seriously consider wearing swimming goggles this week.
Not for any particularly useful reason. Just in case.
And this wouldn't be because we're prediciting a flood of biblical proportions. Not at all. And we're definitely not predicting it to happen on Thursday at around 08.33, EST. Erm, nor would we be so bold as to predict the flood, if we were predicting one, would be mostly comprised of maple syrup.
Or it may just be that, due to yourself wearing a pair of swimming goggles at the breakfast table, you happen to spill a bottle of maple syrup on Thursday morning or so.

Gemini May 21 - June 20
This is the second week of the rest of your Life.
In case you missed it, last week was the first, and if you did miss it, well, there you go. That'll teach you to pay better attention in the future.

Capricorn December 22 - January 19
Sour grapes, you'll find, are actually quite sour, indeed.
And there is no phrase along of lines of, "when Life hands you sour grapes, make lemonade or even sour wine or vinegar," because when you get sour grapes there's not really much chance of looking on the bright side.

Cancer June 21 - July 22
The stars predict a week of promise and potential for you this week!
Which, incidentally, is what they promise when they can't see anything specific but don't want to look lame by coming right out and saying so.

Pisces February 19 - March 20
You are going to have one hell of a bad hair week, if Venus in your First House of Crockery is any indication.
The stars would also like to note that they are not, in any way shape or form, to blame for the gaping hole in your desk.

Aries March 21 - April 19
You made your wishes in that hazy period uncovered by horoscopes, which happens to fall somewhere over the course of the weekend, most often because the stars tend to spend the weekend boozing it up and can't be asked to watch over every little detail of your life (though they do tend to watch the steamier bits, and they know you know what they're referring to).
That said, the consequences are that you spend the week (this week, in case you were wondering) giggling. Uncontrollably.
Which gets you out of work, at any rate.
You also have acquired a pet chocolate cake that follows you around. Nice wishing. Happy birthday.

Libra September 23 - October 22
Rhubarb pie will not make you any stronger, nor will it make you a better swimmer, but it will make one hell of a weapon, if prepared improperly, against the shadows, this week.
So long as you don't care how ridiculous you look, heaving burnt rhubarb pies into the darkness like that.

Scorpio October 23 - November 21
I once knew an ascetic named Bob who wished that he didn't have a horoscope.
You'd get along with him.
You'd probably think his tendency to remind himself of his bodily excess by flaying his back was a bit extreme, but past that he's a nice enough guy.

Sagittarius November 22 - December 21
Your horoscope is still a cheetah (from a couple of weeks ago or so...), which makes my job all the more difficult, because stars rarely attempt to bite you when querying them (standard SQL92 works with both cheetahs and stars, though, which is interesting).

Aquarius January 20 - February 18
Strange forces shall move you this week.
Granted, the forces will mostly be London (or other public/insert your metropolitan locale here, and don't even try telling the stars you don't live in a place without public transport) transport, which is quite strange (or crap, depending on your definition of the word 'strange'), but there will be one extra force, pushing you madly round the treadmill.
That force would be called strawberry jam. Oh yes it is.

[Horoscopes. Take care of my son, you Wacko. Yes, these seem to be becoming the high bandwidth horos.]

[NB. Notice how I have shown the personal reserve and restraint not to write anything in here this week.]