Taurus April 20 - May 20
'Cute', 'social misfit', it all comes down to semantics, doesn't it?
You will be branded a heretic this week.
And your 'cute' routine returns one of the previously mentioned tags. (Note that the cute act and heretical stuff are largely unconnected.)

Leo July 23 - August 22
Your shirts will be properly pressed this week.
A large space dog from Venus will bound through your living room and have your cake and eat it.

Virgo August 23 - September 22
Your sign is in disarray this week, and hasn't had time to do a whole lot for you, and could be seen earlier, struggling down Oxford Street with a briefcase with papers squeezing out everywhere, bumping this way and that off people (as you do in Oxford Street). Consisting of a few stars, which are fairly large hot burning things, most of the people that were bumped into were incinerated by the passing star sign (as you don't often see on Oxford Street).
Buy yourself something nice this week.

Gemini May 21 - June 20
Your life is like a picture this week.
This may mean you're stuck staring at an apple and a bottle of half-finished wine at the kitchen table for quite some time.

Capricorn December 22 - January 19
Ehm.
You have it on reasonable authority that there is no such thing as a space dog from Venus. Though it does sound like something you could build a business around.

Cancer June 21 - July 22
Despite your entrepreneurial spirit and drive, you don't think you could do a whole lot with space dogs from Venus. If it were a sea monkey from Venus perhaps there'd be a market, but you'd be hard pressed to say where, exactly.
Not hard pressed in that there's some marketing bloke there poking (or, more correctly, pressing) you, but hard pressed in a sort of metaphorical sort of way.
Your week will be delightfully free of sweaty pigs (which, again, may be a bit of a mystery of a saying you'll want to tackle at some point).

Pisces February 19 - March 20
Bubble wrap. There, you happy?
Your week will be swathed in bubble wrap. People will look at you funny, some of them will tell you you shouldn't wrap bubble wrap, or any sort of plastic-based thing, for that matter, around your head for fear of suffocating, others will try and poke you repeatedly, hoping some of your bubble wrap sari pops for the sheer joy it might bring them, and still others will see nothing terribly strange about the Pisces walking about town all covered in bubble wrap.
Near disaster occurs on Wednesday, though, when your chair at work is replaced with a new one with very very scratchy fabric.

Aries March 21 - April 19
The whole space dog thing has you a bit confused. And while you might think it's some sort of inside joke, little do you realise, until reading this bit (not this bit, the next bit), that it's all spur of the moment, direct from the stars, and has, unfortunately, no one to blame but the horoscope writer.
You will, inexplicably, like mushroom and ginseng sandwiches this week, and this week only, due to what scientists term an "aurora borealis of the taste buds."

Libra September 23 - October 22
You're let out of the box this week.
Which is where, purportedly, a lot of people think. Out of the box, that is, not in the box.
Because I'd imagine thoughts might, despite being immaterial, take up a lot of space you might like to use for something else, like, say, air, when you're inside the box.

Scorpio October 23 - November 21
Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!
Oh, wait, nothing, sorry. Still no horoscope for you.

Sagittarius November 22 - December 21
I forgot my shoe. Don't you hate it when that happens?
Your week will be an acoustic set.
Despair not, though! As bongo drums count as acoustic instruments, oh yes they do. And how.

Aquarius January 20 - February 18
Now, you'll note that this is not an advertisement, but simply an observation: I would never, ever, have been allowed to eat any of the World Temptations chocolate flakes with chocolate-covered almonds and chocolate crunchy bits and a Mars bar mashed up on top with extra chocolate syrup poured around the whole lot cereal (tm) when I was a kid.
I say this quite confidently, and with a few doubts about whether or not I should have had the bowl or two I just had, as I seem to either be having heart palpitations or some small gnome is running about my chest again, tapping my ribs with a hammer.
Your week will jiggle.

[Horoscopes. Moral Tales. Out now.]