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Blame your mom for your failures.
Born for Greatness?
Hey baby, what’s cooking?
Numerologists and spiritual practitioners have graced humanity with yet another cosmic revelation: intellectual prowess — or its absence — is written in the stars and clearly marked on the cat calendar you proudly hung up on your wall.
These dates, they claim, are unalterable, much like your tailor’s verdict on that plaid sports coat from Goodwill — the one that’s two sizes too small and reeks of stale Old Spice.
Your birthdate, not the month, according to these experts, determines whether you’re a mastermind or someone who struggles to tie their own shoes. It will also dictate your career path, which should be either reassuring or deeply concerning to anyone reading this article.
Destiny, you now realize, either inscribes itself among the cosmos or scribbles in crayon on the back of a napkin. But don’t worry — it isn’t entirely heartless. It simply prefers watching you stumble through life’s little ironies, much like watching courtroom dramas on TV, so that you can save on lawyer fees. Still wearing the ankle bracelet?
Naturally, curiosity arises as to whether someone is among the brilliant chosen few, because who wouldn’t want to discover they’ve hit the intellectual jackpot just by…