What ho, addlepate seafood items? Has solid ground been a bit unsteady beneath your nimble nippers of late? Just as I suspected! It has! And, hear me now and tremble, wittering loons! For I tell you it is going to get worse!
Did you not know that all the world is a recumbent giant, my rascally tum-tums, nearly half awake with indigestion? Eek! Then prepare for further shaking and trembling, resulting in a mighty eructation of the most ghastly and unsettling type. We left you last time in an asylum for the bewildered. You may or may not have noticed any difference between this and the thing you laughingly refer to as your 'real life'.
Let us waste no further time nor lollygag about! Let us instanter consult the vile and bitter prognostications for manic March. That way, we'll get the worst over straight away, in a manner that befits any unpleasant experience, such as going to the dentist for an extraction or to the doctor for haemorrhoid treatment or indeed getting confused between these two things.
Regrettably (or perhaps not), much of manic March has already expired. However, you won't have missed anything you could talk about without the use of obscene language of the most torrid and unnerving nature. Grim Saturn groped narcotic Neptune as the month began. Thus, matters of a fiscal nature teetered on the usual terrifying brink, threatening to launch you into the abyss of utter ruin. You even considered a leasing arrangement with Steamboat Bill and Rubber Duckie, your much loved bath toys but, at the last moment, you decided against this as you couldn't bear the thought of your supple little beauties in the sticky (eek) hands and foul bath waters of some ghastly child. As an idiot Full Moon in irritating Virgo then brought a Lunar Eclipse to your house of communications, persons shouted out you so you decided not to talk to them. Appliances and vehicles misbehaved. People failed to turn up for meetings. Thus you fell into a sulk and decided not to talk to anyone at all.
However, you broke that resolve as the great Sol Invicti slipped a quick one into Uranus, the idiot god and god of idiots. You shouted at foreigners in the street, yelled aloud the names of all the countries you don't like and started an argument with the proprietor of a Chinese aquarium. However, as a multitude of nasty things then occurred in the Heavens, including the return of mischievous Mercury to forward motion, you realized that you couldn't have done any of these things as you were sitting in a home for the bewildered on a remote island, trying to recover from the ghastly things that happened last month.
Eek! Is this your real life or is thus just fantasy? Hmm! Leaving that complex question to be answered by therapists, philosophers or rock stars, we take up the cudgel of vile and bitter prognostications for manic March. And it's a complex tapestry to read with those little eyes on stalks that you have, little nitwit seafood morsels! This is the future! Behold it and tremble sideways.
You surge from the home for the bewildered, set to take your nippers to the centre of battle and rebuild your interests. As there is a deal of ghastly business involving grim Saturn, narcotic Neptune, jolly Jupiter and vamping Venus, you lay plans for fiscal dealings of a mighty nature. As marauding Mars cranks his shaft into cranky Chiron, you employ thuggish fellows to brutalize others persons at random, nicking their dosh to add to your funds. As vamping Venus slithers lustfully into cloth-eared Taurus, you contact old friends and call in fiscal favours. Mischievous Mercury returns to wretched Pisces and you use telephony (eek) to foreign lands, hiring and firing, wheeling and dealing to build a crabby business empire up from the seaweed of your ruined life.
As the New Moon comes in the tear-stained sign of the Fishes, you hurl an errant telephonic device from the office, roundly abuse ungrateful underlings, strip away useless business connections, buy and sell motor vehicles, ring siblings and tell them how pathetic and unhelpful they are and sell your neighbour's fence for a tidy profit.
By all the gods alive and dead, what's this? Great barking bandicoots and farting bullfrogs! It's the great Sol Invicti, staggering into addlepate Aries and inflicting another Equinox on an over-burdened world. And you, tiny imbeciles, are ready to inflict another ghastly crustacean business venture upon same as you enter the 'cut and thrust' world of vile authorities and status-seeking, in memory of your departed grandmamma, god bless her barbed wire garters and camel dung cigars! There's a 'last minute' fiddle faddle with the fiscals as you organize extra cash and have illicit dalliance with a money menial. The icing on the cake, as it were! This is due to the unspeakably lewd behaviour of marauding Mars, vamping Venus, narcotic Neptune and cranky Chiron, an encounter best left undescribed, at least until the court trial begins.
The only question remaining is in regards to the nature of this business venture you're launching. And, on that matter, ye gods and little fishes, I can't believe what I see before me! As Uranus, the idiot god, bonks the life out of the Loony Nodes, that startling fact is made clear! However, as I'm feeling unwell and overcome with creeping ennui and screaming boredom, I shall hold back the startlement your latest startling venture until next time. Click here and learn the awful truth of awful April. With luck, I will have made something up by them, something sufficiently murky and ill-starred! What ho, crustaceans! Life's a beach and then you die!