Salutations, my tiny goatish ninnies! How are your knobby knees? Still creaking to announce your arrival at any gathering? No! For heaven's sake don't answer me! This is not polite converse! It's a formal introduction in the course of which I collect my thoughts before addressing you (ugh) on matters of import. Are you properly seated? Are you paying attention? Is your hair parted on the left-hand side? In that case, we can begin.
Tremble in your frilly pantaloons, my ghastly hircine things! This is the month of obnoxious October. I have ten knots in my handkerchief to prove it. And these are the vile and bitter prognostications that pertain thereto. Attend to me! Drink them down in one long, sad gulp of brackish liquor. Last time, you were set for revenge on the trees of the forest, due to your having been given some stick by an angry squirrel. And this was after you had gone on a special mission to learn to love the realm of nature and find a home in the wild. Ah the ingratitude of a naughty world! This bucolic urge had come as part of an impulse to break from your family and your cult of flagellation. Consequent upon the squirrel incident, you returned to the city, formed a corporation that would on the surface be 'conservation conscious' but underneath was set to raze every inch of forest that might harbor squirrels.
The hircine desire for revenge runs deep! But, as trees were set to fall and squirrels die, a brigade of tree-huggers arrived to see if you were doing everything in accord with the true principles of conservation, funded to do so by the government no doubt! But gadzooks, zounds and horrors aplenty! There was a twist in this squirrel's tale. The leader of these radicals was once a member of your flagellation cult! How the wheel turns, goatish twerps!
So, now we're up to date, I will get on with this month's piffle before I forget what I'm doing entirely and fall asleep. Mischievous Mercury grinds a passage (eek) into morbid Scorpio, groping cranky Chiron, and you exchange cultural pleasantries about 'saving the forest' and 'working together' with someone with whom you've recently shared whips, chains and pilliwinks, as well as other, rarer devices used only on the sex organs. However, you keep the secret of your planned rodent revenge, evading adept enquiries from your counterpart, avoiding the truth but knowing you cannot tell a lie to someone with whom you've shared the implements.
A Full Moon comes in addlepate Aries and you argue with family, spend too much on domestic needs and eat so much hot food that you give yourself indigestion. As mischievous Mercury engages in unseemly acts with narcotic Neptune, friends ask to borrow money but you repulse them sneering or agree but charge extortionate interest rates. After that, it's back to the frey as you must debate your corporation's policy before authoritative boards and committees, as the tree-huggers present themselves to question you. With the great Sol Invicti and marauding Mars in ghastly but succulent congress, there's tension in the air. It seems that the ex-flagellant suspects you're up to no good but doesn't know how to pin you down or get you to admit your cunning plan.
By my sainted aunt, tiny twerps! It's twist, thrust, feint, parry and counter thrust that follows. And all the time your opponent seeks to force an admission while you conceal your position without telling a lie. The New Moon comes in lackwit Libra as you fence through this presentation and debate. It's as though you and your opponent are trying to tie each other down, just like in the old days but in a manner somewhat less literal. It's quite exciting actually and gives you a reminder of what the old days were like. If only you could once again court the Iron Maiden or bathe in the Water Torture, as in days of yore! After all, that's how you like to solve your problems. Direct application of torturous pressure to anyone or anything that gets in the way! With all of this negotiation and debate, you're hamstrung by protocols, politeness and political namby-pamby! And then you're filled with the lambent power of inspiration as ghastly planets fart and fornicate fantastically in the odious realm of Scorpio, dread ruler of death's kingdom.
Forget this business of trees, squirrels and conservation! What you want is a real business, one with an edge! You will make personal torture kits that people can use to overcome stress or solve problems ingeniously. Thumbscrews that help you cope with pressure! A rack that stretches the horizons of thought and action! A pressing board and personalized stones to help you build stamina and endurance! As mischievous Mercury moves into perverse reverse, you instanter ring your opponent from the tree-huggers, once a member of your cult. You suggest enthusiastically this business proposition as a joint venture, hoping against hope that you still feel the same about the old ways. In no time at all, you come together, spending Halloween in torturous embrace as you explore and experiment with the old devices that you cannot leave behind. Enjoy the trick and treat of it all, my tiny turnips!
But what will happen when the Iron Maiden once again rides high? There'll be a prick or two for you perhaps! And a bit of pressure! Click here next time and see. In the meantime, hail and farewell, goatish miseries!
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