Tie me up and tie me down! It's you, my little loonies! The crass and nasty offspring of crapulous Jupiter! In this life of fortune and surprises, nice and nasty, there are many twists and turns we must face and bear with equanimity! Yet even on the path of irritation, riding the clouds of the sublime, it's difficult to bear with the fortune that is to unleash itself upon you.
Yes indeed, my tiny quadrupeds, your obese and bibulous god is to favour your addlepate sign with a visitation, bringing luck and opportunity entirely undeserved. The passing parade of the monarch of insobriety is to stop at the corner of Silly Street and Sagittarius Avenue for a chat, a bout of dalliance and the 'all you can eat' culinary experience.
But that is down the track as yet so, for the nonce, the usual round of suffering continues. Last time we left, you were on the ship of fools or rather on the vessel of the idiot (that's you!). Ghastly planets cavorted in morbid Scorpio and your solar twelfth house! Eek! That's an unspeakably nasty realm of nameless horrors, filled with wretched weeping, longshoremen and deceitful psychics. Thus, by dint of this dastardly influence, were you transformed you into more of a misbegotten loony than is normally the case. Let us hoist the sail of this nautical tale for ning-nongs! It's nasty November, my tiny twits. I know this from the eleven knots in my handkerchief. Sit back on your flabby haunches and bear with the vile and bitter prognostications that pertain thereto. Mischievous Mercury has a gross encounter with grim Saturn in perverse reverse, making you depressed. You sit on the foredeck or perhaps it's the poop deck or it may be somewhere in between. In a Brown Study (of the seafaring kind), you contemplate your life, wondering why it is you've done what you done, and also not done what you haven't done, just to round things out.
A Full Moon in cloddish Taurus looks down on this naughty world, catching you in the chill necrotic glare. You feel ill and find the thought of doing anything tedious. You tire of the spirit folk you danced with at Halloween and invent imaginary friends that you can talk to. As narcotic Neptune has serial relations with a number of nasty planets soon to be named in divorce proceedings, you wave your arms, talking and laughing affectedly, as if you're strolling on the boulevards of Paris rather than wandering the deck of an abandoned ship. However, as marauding Mars and mischievous Mercury exchange obscene acts with their rudest bits, a freak wave hits the ship and you fall from the stairs, scraping painfully your big toe. Still, one of your imaginary friends is a doctor and so cleans and binds the wound before you catch gangrene and have to amputate the little piggy that went 'wee wee wee' all the way home.
But what's this? Egad, little creeps! It's a wind change in the flatulent Heavens. Vamping Venus enters your appalling sign and you dress flamboyantly in pirate garb, using expressions like 'ahoy', 'land ho' and 'shiver me timbers' as you strut about the poop deck in self-admiration. But further change rattles the rigging just as mischievous Mercury turns direct and a New Moon comes in evil Scorpio. Startlingly, your head begins to clear and you start wondering what exactly it is that you're doing alone aboard a ghost ship! How did you get here? What happened to the crew? What happened to your life in Syracuse? This begins to sound like a case for Horse of the Yard. Although, in the current circumstances, Horse of the Yardarm may be more appropriate! Suddenly realizing that you're starving, you head down to the galley for ship's biscuit and salt beef with a weevil garnish.
But, just as you do, tiny tikes, fortune turns in your favour! All manner of optimistic foolery erupts in the cosmos as the great Sol Invicti rattles into your addlepate sign, jolly Jupiter following in hot pursuit. Hoorah! It's time for birthday celebrations for the silly Centaurs! And they come with the usual twist. As ghastly aspects bring confusion, you take a wrong turn as you go below and end up in a storeroom instead of the galley. And what do you find? Well, I'll tell you! You're on a treasure ship, little waddling loonies! Chest upon chest of doubloons, precious stones and jewelry glitters before your eyes! You're rich beyond your wildest dreams, an impressive feat given how wild your dreams are generally. As you stand there, rooted to the spot and beguiled by the promise of a fortune, one final thing brings the travail of this month to its unexpectedly fortunate conclusion. The cry of a gull! Land ho, my little lubbers! Get ready to drop the anchor and celebrate!
But will it be that simple? After all, it's never been simple before, except in your simple mind! As I'm low with creeping ennui and entirely uninterested, you'll have to click here next time to see just what occurs. Ahoy shipmates! Look out for the first exciting (yawn) installment of CENTAUR IN CLOVER. But for the nonce, ave atque vale, ghastly little quadrupeds!