What sign are you?

I had a lot of laughs reading the articles at a website made by a guy who obviously has a good sense of humour.

http://www.alib.com.au/greyfoo/greyfoo_codstuff/cod_codiac/index.html

What starsign are you? You can convert it into it’s Call Of Duty United Offensive equivilent.

For instance, myself, aquarius on cusp with capricorn.

Aqkarius Defining characteristics:
Aqkarians are, by nature, a rather scary bunch – they have a distinct habit of sneaking off and shooting you in the head at the very moment you least expect it, scaring the crap out of you. Mild pants-wetting is frequently the outcome of battling these silent but professional types, hence the term Water-Scarer.

Favourite weapons: Rifles like the Kar98k and Mosin-Nagant, however Aqkarians are fond of using scopes if it will result in frightening people.

Respected by: Most players, for their professional, methodical yet humble approach.

Loathed by: Leetos, Tauntus.

Aqkarius this week:
While practicing your rifle skills, you will accidentally shoot the Pool Cabana Boy at the mansion next door in the head, and be forced to hide his body on the set of Big Brother. So that nobody will suspect foul play, you will need to impersonate the vicitm for the next two months, using a false moustache and hawaiian shirt. Beware of older women drinking Coca-Cola. Favourite colour – Aquamarine Blue.

United Offensive Aqkarius:
The Aqkarian Scariness Factor is somewhat diminished in United Offensive, due to the ability to cruise around a map wearing several tonnes of steel plate. Nevertheless, the Aqkarian is always there, sneaking about, ready to cap anyone who sticks their nose (or other body parts) out into the open.

Although it’s against your Aqkarian creed, you’ll spend time with these new tank thingies and perfect the art of the aimed shell. After a while you’ll get the hang of firing a shell 400 metres through the air so that it lands exactly in the barrel of the enemy tank and blows up their own ordinance. Better yet, you’ll perfect the “shoot-a-seagull-so-that-some-gull-goo-falls-on-an-enemy soldier-who-then-has-to-wash-his-fatigues,-which-he’ll-throw-their-flag-in with-so-as-not-to-waste-water,-but-then-the-washing-machine’s-broken-so-they’ll-have-to-use-the-local-laundromat-which-is-at-your-base-haha-gotcha” shot.

Finally, you’ll teach yourself how to fire a shell so perfectly it breaks the light-speed time barrier, pops out of existence, and re-materialises back in the 1980s killing the guy who invented hair mousse before he got to tell anybody. Your legend continues.

Campricorn Defining characteristics:
Never the first into battle, the shy, retiring Campricorn prefers the shade and solitude of good cover, ideally well out of sight, which is why they are so rarely seen in the open. This meek persona, however, has a dark side, as there is nothing a Campricorn likes more then leaping out from behind a crate/rock/tree and dispensing free whoopass.

Favourite weapons: Grenades, Explosives and Rifle-butts, anything sneaky.

Respected by: Search & Destroy players, who understand the unmatchable joy of remaining immobile for long periods of time.

Loathed by: Scopio and Trudgittarius especially, who is usually on the receiving end of aforementioned whoopass, and Spysces, who has got so bored they left to make another round of sandwiches.

Campricorn this week: You will be jailed for manslaughter this week, after you leap out from behind a shopping trolley and scare a little old lady to death. Luckily for you, your Campricorn ways will prove extremely useful in prison, where none of the other inmates will be able to find you to play special games; nor can the wardens. You will escape with the first crate-bearing truck to leave the prison, and spend the rest of your life as a fugitive, forced to sleep with various Supermodels in order to find shelter for the night. Favourite colour – Prison Blue.

United Offensive Campricorn:
With such expansive maps, the Campricorn faces a paradoxical dilemma – there’s a zillion camping spots to choose from, but equally disadvantageous is the fact that there’s just as much likelihood that no-one will ever come by that spot at all. The United Offensive battlefield is littered with hundreds of corpses of Campricorns who just couldn’t resist “waiting that one minute more.”

You will devise a dastardly new trick very soon – of occupying a tank while pretending there’s nobody home. You’re so good at it, however, that the rest of your team-mates give you up for dead and don’t come looking for you after the match has ended. You will wake up about 50 years later, the tank now rusting in a Polish War Museum. Wrapping your white beard around your waist, you wipe about half a century’s crust from your eyes, and wade through 50 years of drool to get out of the infernal beast. Unfortunately, the curator of the museum has had the lid welded shut because of the large number of disrespectful people that had used the turret as an impromtu toilet seat. That’s not engine grease down there.

Luckily, you’ll get out in one peace thanks to your G.I.-issue can-opener, and spend the rest of your days rich and playing Santa in various X-rated movies.

Shits and giggles