You’re going to die today. That’s it really mate.
The comforting feeling of warm breath on the back of your neck you’re getting right now isn’t your wife and you shouldn’t be comforted by it.
Nominative predetermination at its worst there pal.
Your sister has just been eaten by Belorussian midgets, there’s no easy way to say that without it sounding funny. Sorry.
You think you’re breathing on the back of your husband’s neck. You’re not. He’s with us now.
After waking up and standing on a plug, then stubbing your toe on the bed you thought your day couldn’t get any worse, you’re wrong.
Actually not looking too bad for you at the moment.
Ditto, as long as you like eating liquidised food.
Try to avoid crossing the road, you could get hit by a bus.
Tell your mate Capricorn that he’s definitely going to get hit by a bus in…3…2…1…
∗ OK, week-ish. If you’re lucky.