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    Cancer | Soul Connection | Relationships | Runes | Zodiac

    CRABBY CANCER...

    Click for Last Month  The Eccentric Exigencies of August 2007  Click for Next Month
    Cancer Gadzooks, my little seafood morsels! It is you there, upon the half shell, awaiting myself, the deliverer prognostications of a vile and bitter sort.

    Last time, you sailed the seventh sea (or perhaps it was the sixth), voyaging intrepidly from somewhere to somewhere else because of circumstances so unutterably dull that I neither remember what they were nor wish to. You were poised (and damn my eyes for recalling it) to deliver to a gaggle of manacled and miserable wretches a sound thrashing, by means of the cruel device that was your ancient mother's favourite toy and pet, the cat o' nine tails! Eek! How cruel and yet how fair, for each and every one of them had forgot their bounden duty of respect for you and all your wretched kind, the bulwarks of grim and moribund tradition such as only can be maintained by the wholesale slaughter of all who would raise the voice of dissent. Yea verily, this be a sound doctrine that has kept alive a wealth of churches, states and nations till well beyond their useful and appointed span in ages past.

    Haroo, my nasty Crabs! Awful August is begun. Thus, we write in the book of life a further chapter of your sufferings, aimless and futile though they be. Away, I say, away! What's this? Why, it's mischievous Mercury pushing his pointy end into lackwit Leo. The wretched victims beg release of the un-thrashed kind, offering money and pathetic pleas for mercy. You laugh cruelly. Ha! Ha! But, as the great Sol Invicti interferes grossly with the passage (eek) of cranky Chiron, you suggest to these cowering imbeciles that, while money alone may not cause you to hold your hand, sexual favours may swing the balance away from the swish of playful puss. Yet, just as you're set to negotiate a satisfactory package, marauding Mars cracks and blatters his way into nitwit Gemini and your solar twelfth house, an unspeakable realm of hidden enemies, psychics, sorrows, longshoremen, drugs, unforeseen disasters and their consequent sufferings.

    As you can see, there is a wide range of miseries for you to choose from. Which of them will be yours, O minor seafood morsels? Well, I'll tell you! A storm arises, no doubt because of global warming or perhaps because there are storms, regardless of the inconvenience they cause to humankind, interrupting sporting events on television, banking hours and trips to the supermarket. Mighty waves wallop your vessel and send even hardened sea legs sprawling. As jolly Jupiter moves forward in silly Sagittarius, an Asian medico you have aboard to tend the wounds inflicted by the cat now issues seasick pills. However, it's too late, as the manacled sufferers are buffeted from stern to bow, heaving (not upon the bowline) and lighting the hold with the ghastly hue from the 'green around the gills' effect. All thoughts of sex and thrashings go by the by and it's only by the sternest management of your crabby pins that you can keep your feet and stand to order in the midst of all this oceanic chaos.

    Ye gods and little fishes, but it's an ill wind that blows, my sad and damp little sandwich fillings. And, as a New Moon comes in lackwit Leo, with gross and unseemly frolic involving narcotic Neptune and vamping Venus, this nasty spell of weather launches furious assail on all that floats so that soon, it floats not, as will shortly be the case with the well-walloped vessel on which you are nautically challenged. But the indignity of all this doesn't end there, by my sainted aunt! Nay indeed, as the horse god says! Just as you're in the midst of some titillating negotiations with your manacled sufferers, offering to free them from their chains if they will purchase a pair of water wings from you, at a knock down price, of course, since you happen to have some old stock, lying about in the bottom of your case. Dosh is about to pass from hand to trembling hand when your once sturdy vessel lurches, crashes and crunches to a grinding halt, though waves still batter her resoundingly. It seems you've run aground, my tiny shell bound loonies!

    Marauding Mars rams the rude bit into the Loony Nodes and you're shipwrecked! Marooned on some tiny isle! Mischievous Mercury slips a quickie into grim Saturn and financial negotiations are suspended as crabs and rats, in company with all and sundry abandon ship. You hurl the keys to your prisoners and head for the deck where you commandeer a little jolly boat and set out for the desert isle that invites the flotsam of your birthday voyage. All about, ruined vessels in various states of decay reveal that this tiny isle hungers for the unwary mariner. But that troubles you not and soon, just as mischievous Mercury pushes the pointy end into vexatious Virgo, you have a stall set up on the beach, selling smalls items of food, clothing, flares, matches and have laid claim to the better stocks of firewood. Filled as you are with a desire to assist fellow creatures in distress, business is still business, is it not, my crabby twits! You also employ a few sturdy seafaring fellows from the ship, to ensure that order is kept. Needless to say, you're soon on the phone to raise the rescue vessels and also to continue with your plans to ruin all of those who played the jolly birthday jape on you.

    But, by all the gods alive and dead, there's more trouble brewing, little crabby things! As marauding Mars rogers the living daylights out of mischievous Mercury and a Full Moon in wretched Pisces brings a Lunar Eclipse, a catalogue of catastrophe unfolds! The food is past the 'sell by' date and thus inedible. Eek! The flares and matches are an inferior product, much dampened, and so dribble a few lethargic sparks then sink into stygian gloom. Ugh! The battery in your phone is soon flat and the sturdy seaman are becoming grumpy trying to explain to you that there are no power outlets on a desert isle. Aargh! But worst of all is the tragic loss of Rubber Ducky and Tim the Tugboat, left in your cabin (now underwater) because of the selfishness of those you trusted!

    Great cowering custards! What will you do at bath time, especially as the sturdy mariners also try to impress upon you that there is no running hot water on the isle. Great harrowing hordes of hellish harangue! It's just impossible to find good help these days, little pincer persons! Reluctantly, you reach for puss in her velvet pouch! But she's not to be found and, by my little brown bottle, a crowd now gathers about you with a grim and angry look. What can this mean? Surely, proper authority and discipline will be kept. Egad! The very sturdy first mate steps up with the cat o' nine tails in a hand the size of a shovel! And the look upon his phiz isn't matey at all. Surely, no one will be rash enough to strike you, crustacean that you are!

    As I'm overcome with creeping ennui and all but unconscious, you will have to click here next time to read the final exciting instalment of your crabby birthday bash. Ave till then, little nitwits of the nipper!


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