a forecast for 18 - 24 February

Taurus April 20 - May 20
Hell hath no fury like Tony Bennett, ageless crooner, spurned.
You witness the fury that doth put Hell to shame on Tuesday, in your favourite restaurant. The man you see may just bear a striking resemblance to Tony Bennett, I'll have you know.

Leo July 23 - August 22
A mysterious illness will grip the village towards the end of the week, prompting you to take flight to Boston on a horse (troublesome for non-Americas-based Leo's, unless you can find a local Boston to which travel by horse isn't entirely out of the question) shouting all along the way, "Ahhhhhh!" because, chances are, you don't know how to ride a horse. Or at least aren't very comfortable galloping along on one.

Virgo August 23 - September 22
This week doesn't involve olives. It sees no reason to go about involving people (or things, indeed) that aren't going to add anything substantial to the week.
Sorry, this also includes that velvet Elvis painting, it's just can't come along.

Gemini May 21 - June 20
Modern HR departments seem, more and more, to be using hula hoop skills as a barometer against which you're measured when you apply for a job at any given company.
And sure, hula hooping is largely a solitary activity, but you wouldn't believe the extrapolations you can make on someone based on their hula-hooping prowess.

Capricorn December 22 - January 19
This is a happy, happy week for you. Happy as a clam in a bucket painted in pastels the clam particularly likes and maybe a nice clam of the opposite sex and a bottle of wine (waterproof wine, obviously).
All because of actions you'd kicked into action on that glorious Groundhog Day...

Cancer June 21 - July 22
Studies show that people who tend to spend forty five percent or more of their week in bed are considerably more adept at pillow fights, be they the more popular feather-pillow events or the more endurance-focused synthetic pillow events (usually termed 'marathons'). Cushion fights are another matter altogether, and generally involve a good deal more variety in the material and a certain laxness in the rules of the events.
Especially this week, when the international board that governs such events puts out a press release condemning the utilisation of a shaggy dog disguised as a shaggy cushion in a horrific pillow/cushion fight early Sunday morning, which is destined to ruin cushion fights for the rest of the people, those people that fought hard and clean, with a certain amount of vim and vigour, in the ways of the ancient cushion fighters, when these things were for fought for surivival more than gaming pleasure.
You will acquire some sort of super power by the end of the week through some freak accident that always happens in comic books.

Pisces February 19 - March 20
Return to your roots this week by climbing a tree and throwing bananas (this is the considerably cleaned up version of this horoscope) at passing people and things.
That is, if you consider your roots to be traceable to any number of '80s heavy metal bands.

Aries March 21 - April 19
You wake on Wednesday to find quantum flux endocrinal capacitors have been implanted in you!
After a series of near fatal tests, you discover whatever those are, they don't allow you to fly, run faster than trains (even Great Western Railway run trains), leap very high, read people's minds, nor do they enhance your ability to withstand freezing bitter cold.
They may have made you slightly heavier, and you seem to beep everyday at around 9.15am, but that's the only noticeable difference. You consider showing people the receipt you found by your head upon waking by the end of the week.

Libra September 23 - October 22
Your natural aversion to broccoli probably saves your life this week when you fail to run out into a six lane freeway to fetch a piece of broccoli that fell, almost inexplicably, off a lima bean truck.

Scorpio October 23 - November 21
You wish you were willing to give your life for broccoli, but you aren't, really, not even under the influence of a good deal of alcohol and sad films about broccoli and the things they have to grow up through, and thus get yet another uneventful horoscope, or, to be technical about it, non-horoscope.

Sagittarius November 22 - December 21
A talking plumber named Bill will warn you of the dangers of gingivitis this week.
Which is nice, but would be moreso if you weren't contained in a vat of formaldahyde, which makes it rather difficult to do anything about Bill's recommendations with regards to the prevention of gingivitis.

Aquarius January 20 - February 18
A freak bowling accident will leave you forever unable to wear shoes of any sort ever again.
This is okay, though, as someone pops round your house to offer you their share of their lottery jackpot winnings or money laundering operation's output, thus fulfilling a lifelong goal you'd had of becoming a millionaire by virtue of pure, undeserved, and possibly surreal luck.

[Horoscopes. New lit. Sallis appears. At midnight. It is raining.]