That's a Roman 2, just so you know. Not an Arabic eleven. Those have the little pointy things on the end. Like thus: 11.
Well, I've finally stuffed my fat mouth with enough fortune cookies for another round, so here goes...
(honestly, I wonder who gets paid to write these things)
You have the strength to be a leader not a follower.
Just the strength? Not the skill or eloquence or charm? All you need is strength, I guess.
You always foster hopes for success.
I'm a pessimist. I'm going to fail at life and it's your fault.
You will inherit a large sum of money.
Dad's out of a job... not gonna happen. Thanks for that painful reminder, though.
You are always welcome in any gathering.
Really? Because the last time I went streaking to the police department's New Year's party, they weren't very thrilled.
You have clearly loved every minute of your job.
I don't have a job, but if I did, I'm sure there would CLEARLY be at least a few minutes where I wished I had a fork to stick in the nearest electrical outlet.
You are doomed to be happy in wedlock.
If I'm doomed, it won't be happy, and if I'll be happy, it won't be doom. Plus, I got no lady.
Hands that touch this fortune shall stay young and strong.
Woah! Who knew that touching a piece of paper would make you immortal! No wait, not you, just the hands. So you'll be old and wrinkly with sexy hands. I guess masturbation would be more exciting as the years progress...
It's nice to work with friendly people. Be one.
What if they're incompetent? Not so nice then. And are you implying I'm not a friendly person? You whore!
Moral of the story: if you're reading this, you just read this.
See? I can make fortunes too. That'll be ten dollars.
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