WHich Car Is Right For YOU?
ARIES (March 21-April 19) 1964 Checker Marathon Taxicab.
Your dream to make millions will come true when you answer that ad about repairing cracked windshields with miracle resin. Give the Leo in your life "Martha Stewart's Guide to Military Vehicles." Don't put tofu in the carburetor today. The highway rest stops on your route will be out of order this week, so put an empty 2-liter bottle in the car now. Read your compass carefully; a mistake could put you in the chemical wastelands of New Jersey causing you to miss the big party at Graceland.
TAURUS (April 20-May 20) Ford L8000 Garbage Truck.
Don't practice your bagpipes on the way to work today; your carpool partners are beginning to take offense. Next Thursday, the speed limits in towns beginning with the letter N will not be enforced; feel free to go 100 mph. The takeout Taco Bell chalupa will drip on your private parts. Get a quesadilla today instead. If events don't go your way this week, don't rule out sabotage as an option.
GEMINI (May 21-June 21) 1987 Yugo GV.
When you see a car with the bumper sticker, "Honk if you've never seen an Uzi fired from a car window," lean on your horn and give him the bird. Don't worry, your Lunar aspect coincides with safety from danger. Relax tonight in the hospital and watch Thelma & Louise. Avoid Pisces and Scorpio nurses with large hypodermics. Take a bold step tomorrow and buy that faux Leopard steering wheel cover at Wal-Mart.
CANCER (June 22-July 22) 1948 Divco Milk Delivery Truck.
Beware of vapor lock, fuzzy dice, and cheap Chinese pliers. Today is the day to baptize the cat with WD-40. When you're pulled over for speeding, shake a wiper blade refill at the officer and tell him your radar detector isn't working. A sudden infatuation with 1959 Buick Electra tail fins could have dire consequences. Contact Ferrari and demand that they make you their corporate spokesman in Mozambique.
LEO (July 23-Aug. 22) 1972 Mini Moke Cooper.
Beware of being hypnotized by white lane markers into selling your Fiat stock at 73 cents a share. Postpone putting that 667 cid 7-cylinder radial engine in your WWII Jeep until Pisces is rising. Visit the Fair Deal Used Cars tent sale and offer the salesman $500 more than the asking price on the 1954 Henry J because you wouldn't want to cheat him. Resist the temptation for pop tarts, recycled high-fiber granola, and other carcinogens tomorrow.
VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22) 1957 Nash Ambassador.
An asteroid is due to hit your garage tomorrow so risk upsetting the snooty couple next door by parking your rusty project vehicle in front of their house. Don't buy a used car from Taurus; he put sawdust in the differential to quiet it down. Now is not the time to buy a low-flush toilet or re-seal the driveway. Rent Smokey and the Bandit tonight and escape into it or your churning mind won't let you sleep.
LIBRA (Sept. 23-Oct. 23) 1986 GMC School Bus.
Lunar aspect coincides with reality TV, hand grenades, and mating instinct. Don't be afraid to use Dap latex caulk instead of Bondo to patch the bed of your pickup. Put mouse glue traps under the seats and invite a Capricorn friend over for fresh stew. Don't search for Rush Linbaugh on your car radio; all you will find is Howard Stern. Beware of potato cannons, disposable enemas, and bearded Albanian street vendors selling Humvee maintenance manuals.
SCORPIO (Oct. 24-Nov. 21) 1999 Smart.
Lineup of Mars with Jupiter heralds seismic farts today, so open the vents now. Avoid gerbils, nose hair clippers, and people named "Bill," "Hillary," or "Lautenberg-Corzine." Be wary of letters from lawyers representing people you have run over. If you encounter a Gemini with a Yugo, squirt Gumout on him and shout, "Uff da!" The mechanic you accused of having oatmeal for brains just filled your transmission with molasses.
SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22-Dec. 21) Elgin Street Sweeper.
Double check everything toady: gas, oil, kids, ammunition. Eating Beef Jerky will not help you maintain your aura of mystery. If you drive a Swedish or Japanese car, avoid oncoming 16-wheelers driven by amphetamine-crazed Libras. Don't pick your nose at the red light downtown; two girls are watching. People are avoiding riding with you because your "fresh spring" air freshener smells like decaying bluefish.
CAPRICORN (Dec. 22-Jan. 19) Pride Sundancer Scooter.
Beware advice from Libras about relining your brakes with Masonite; they are using you for self-gratification. The groundhog you ran over last week was a weasel in disguise and his friends are now eating your wife's new SUV. She'll blame you. Hide the chain saw and 12-gauge shotgun. Postpone those other romantic involvements for now. Enter the Dakar Rally. Avoid lizards, velcro, and natural fiber laxatives.
AQUARIUS (Jan. 20-Feb. 18) 1943 Ford GPA.
You'll be making a big decision today between form, function, or firepower; think about it now. Crystal Drano in the fuel tank will take care of that stale gas from last winter. Be wary of ads by Virgos or Aries saying, "just a little rust" or "rough, but all there." They lie. "OBO" does not mean what you think; it means, "offensive baffling odor" except in Texas where it means "one bad ombre."
PISCES (Feb. 19-March 20) 1966 Citroen 2CV.
Take that pistol out of your mouth and do something positive for a change. Rent a tank and run over some rice rockets. Show the Halloween trick-or-treaters how a blow torch works on their goodie bags. Drive the Pan American Highway to Ushuaia, Argentina. Perform a tracheotomy. Build a beer can mortar. Tint your windows. Wrestle with an alligator. Don't blame the dog for your next SBL fart (SBL = silent but lethal). And quit whining about your problems.
