Poposcopes: Predictions for each sign of the Zodiac for 2006

Aries 3/21-4/19 - You will meet a lovely, dark-haired Italian girl while taking a ferry tour around the Isle of Capri. She will have bewitching eyes, a lyric, almost poetic laugh and smell like fresh rose petals. Be weary, though, as when she gets up to "freshin up" prior to dessert at the quaint little bistro you will dine at that night, she will , in fact, steal your digital camera as a birthday present for her one-armed Scandinavian boyfriend named Gunter.

Leo 7/23-8/22 - On October 22nd, you will finally find out what an Ocelot is.

Sagittarius 11/22-12/21 - You will gather 2 of every animal and create the worlds most famous, but also most controversal, All You Can Eat buffet.

Taurus 4/20-5/20 - You will met a large Italian man on the Staten Island ferry. He will weigh 283 pounds and smell like garlic. He will give you directions to the Number 4 train.

Virgo 8/23-9/22 - You will sit at home alone and quitely read National Geographic while enjoying a glass of Pinot Noir from 9:35-10:03 pm on March 5th.

Capricorn 12/22-1/19 - Your stubborn refusal to believe in angels will lead to you being severely pummelled by 23 leather-clad bikers in a bar just outside of Tempe, Arizona.

Gemini 5/21-6/21 - You will find financial success, but spiritual doom, when you rework the Hail Mary into a gansta rap single.

Libra 9/23-10/22 - Saint Martin of Tours will appear to you in the remnants of your half-eaten quiche just prior to your proposing to your girlfriend to alert you to some spinach stuck in your teeth.

Aquarius 1/20-2/18 - The Age of Aquarius will official come to an end this year.

Cancer 6/22-7/22 - You will be left behind.

Scorpio 10/23-11/21 - God will intervine through a massive lightining strike and save you from a devistating defeat in Battleship to your 7 year-old cousin Ruddiger.

Pisces 2/19-3/20 - Horoscopes, and astrology in general, are considered heretical by the Church. You will probably go to hell just for reading this.

Dear AntiPope 1

I would like to take this opprotunity to introduce a brand spanking new feature here at Devin For Pope Dotcom: "Dear Antipope". In this section I will be taking actual letters written to Dear Abby and answer them myself, hopefully bringing hope to the hopeless, light into the darkness and Arena Rock into Communist China. So without and further ado:

After a rather tedious backstory about his parents and his new girlfriend, Worried in Worcester asks:

"Abby, how can I tell if I am an alcoholic? I don't have trouble controlling the
amount or frequency of when I drink, but I do get "mood swings" when I'm
intoxicated. Is that a classic sign?"

First off, Worried, if you ever call me Abby again you won't have to worry about drinking to much because I will staple you lips closed.

As to the drinking, different people define "drinking problem" and "alcoholism" in different ways. My own personal rule of thumb is that you shouldn't consider your drinking a problem until you have been physically removed from a bar for trying to shake Lucky Charms out of the pockets of a midget dressed up as a Leprachaun for St. Patricks Day because you are really hungry and the line at the pizza place next door is too long. Other experts may disagree, but that is my definition and I will stick by it. That said, your "mood swings" are a classic sign, a classic sign of you being a no-fun drunk. You are probably the jerk who decides that he wants to have a really serious discussion about his feelings about his ex-girlfriend after your 5th tequilla shot, while I'm trying to what a baseball game or hit on the waitress. So you know what, do us all a favor and just stop drinking.

In fact, Worried, stop going out altogether; just sit in your apartment by yourself, listen to Morrisey with the lights out and leave me the hell alone. God! "Worried in Worchester", how frikin' lame can you get. Why didn't you just call yourself "complete-bloody-buzzkill-pretending-to-have-a-girlfriend-in-a-letter-I-write-to-an-87-year- old-newspaper-advice-columnist-to-try-to-seem-cooler-while-sitting-alone-in-my-parents- basement-watching-Star-Trek-reruns-in-a-ratty-robe-stuffing-another-slice-of-Dominos-Meat-Lovers-pizza-down-my-throat-and-fantasizing-about-having-a-drinking-problem-so-I- can-see-myself-as-some-kind-of-tormented-artest-destroying-myself-with-liquor-because-of- the-sheer-weight-of-my-on-genius-and-not-as--32-year-old-assistant-night-manager-of-the-Best-Buy-on-Neponset-St-who-plays-bass-in-a-crappy-garage-band-that-does-all-it-can-to-sound-like-Creed in Worcester?.

I hate you.

Pope FAQ: Transit workers

Q: What circle of hell do striking transit workers end up in?

A: They go to the 8th circle of hell and are buried upside down, with their feet sticking out of the ground on fire, just like Simonists. I don't really understand the logic of placing striking subway conductors and sellers of indulgences in the same place, but I have to say I like the results.

Pope FAQ: Time

Q: What time is it?

A: 1:24 pm

Pope UnFAQ: Chickens

Q: Do you think chickens go to heaven?

Q: and do you think they'll be mad at us?

A: ...

Q: I mean, its heaven so you'd think they'd be happy, but we kill an awful lot of them...

Q: keep them in cages...

Q: steal their eggs...

Q: they've got a legitimate gripe...

Q: Quite frankly I'm a little worried.

Q: I mean, for all we know Colonel Sanders is being tormented by millions of angelic chickens right now.