Great trundling tea-trolleys, my tiny turnips! It's all dastardly deeds and dire danger in the dim and dreary life of the crustacean. What lies ahead is so unspeakably painful that I begin to wonder if I should tell you of it! Hmm! Pause for deep contemplation! Yes, I shall, as I haven't had a decent chortle since the College of Cardinals (a group of men who've never had sex with a female) ratified the doctrine of 'virgin birth'. And it gives me a chortle to contemplate the onset of further misery in your wretched lives. So what must we do, my little seafood dinners?
That's right! We must drink from the cup of vile and bitters! The poison chalice of manic March! Hold it to your lips! Tremble nastily in your voluminous undergarments! Then drink! It's on for young and old, my ghastly articles! Last time, you had become a pastry chef at the casino in order to pay off the debts created by your misadventures with what seems now to be a gambling addiction (jolly Jupiter in your solar fifth house). But as we left you amidst a clutch of particularly tasty currant buns, you were struck by inspiration. The inspiration was (and it's a credit to prescription drugs that I remember it) that, if marauding Mars has sent your lucky instinct on the twisted path with his interference in your solar twelfth house, you must act against your intuition to triumph. It sounds simple enough! But how will it be in the execution!
Well, that's where dire, dreary and dim doings come into play. Mischievous Mercury instanter goes into perverse reverse after slipping a quick one into dark Pluto, god of the underworld, as jolly Jupiter interferes with narcotic Neptune. Thus, you whip yourself to a baking frenzy, master baker that you are, to earn funds to return to the wheel of fortune and make yourself a mountain of lolly! Vamping Venus slithers into idiot Aquarius and you hit on another idea.
Yikes and double yikes, my little seafood ninnies! That's two in successive months! How bizarre and how unprecedented! You bake a precious stone (the peridot from that appalling drop you wear) into one of your pastries and offer it as a hidden treasure for the hungry seeker, hoping thereby to increase your sales and thus your profits, as the casino pays by the bun! It's a thing done causally, tiny tikes! An afterthought! With no other intent than to gather funds so you can return to the gambling tables. Little do you foresee the nasty future it will bring!
News of the 'treasure in a bun' spreads like wildfire in the town, due to a ghastly Full Moon in aggravating Virgo. Your buns become the craze of the moment as eager buyers search out the stone. It's soon found but a public, hungry for novelty, novelty and novelty (as well as buns) cries out for more. There is no end to the idiocy of people with more money than sense! The casino sets you to work baking as every one runs to buy your buns and the profits rise and rise again. As the great Sol Invicti lasciviously conjoins with mischievous Mercury and the two of them form a ménage à trois with dark Pluto, underworld god, the kitchen runs as hot as hell when the export market for the 'treasure in a bun' takes off. No time for gambling! Eek! You're too busy baking and making a fortune as your buns are consumed by local folk and foreigners alike!
By my sainted aunt, what's this? It's the great Sol Invicti, clattering into addlepate Aries to visit another Equinox on an overburdened world. You've become a renowned master baker without even realizing you were one (your best friends wouldn't tell you). Your 'treasure buns' are the current fad (NB: a pun!) and your fortune may soon be made. Your hot little nippers are filled with cash. Thus, as a New Moon brings a Solar Eclipse in addlepate Aries, you appoint an underling master baker to relieve you of your burdens (you've been baking for some time, you see). But, by the mad gods and all the saints in Heaven, it's a rum do after that as mischievous Mercury rampages lustfully forwards and we find you heading back to the lounge of Lady Luck to lay your riches and your destiny at her feet once more.
Has jolly Jupiter, the giggling lord of fortune, got you in his grip! Eek! Are you an addict of the first water, doomed to lose a fortune? Or are you destined to double what you have? What will happen to a Crab with marauding Mars loose in the house of self-undoing? Click here next time and see, my tiny turnips! In the meantime, ave atque vale!
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