Asperitus Casting Runes...
Hola, addlepates of the air sign persuasion! Great gods alive and dead, little nitwits, I'm sick of all the shenanigans, the illnesses (feigned or not) and the incessant brainless chatter that have become your personal domain. This month you're going to get out of bed, grow up, shut up and start behaving like a normal person. I, Asperitus, the master of sublime irritation and the oracle of bitter truth, do hereby decree this!
Now, by my little brown bottle, I shall enact this transformation upon your miserable selves with the vilest and most bitter prognostications you have ever read in the entire worthless course of your entirely worthless lives! Gods, I'm feeling faint now! What was I saying? Oh yes, I remember! It's you, isn't it, little two-faced cretins! And you stand at the door of nasty November! Let us proceed!
Insufferable planets fart in the winds of the cosmos and the stench descends in a cloud to the benighted earth below where dwell you Twins and all your odious brothers and sisters of the other eleven signs. However, the smell seems to do you good, as you make a remarkable recovery. You arise from your bed, cast the religious brethren from your house and then fall into earnest conversation with your elderly financial manager, hatching a rather convincing plan for your economic survival. Faster than you can say 'By the pricking of my thumbs', you call in favours from connections overseas, lease out your home as a conference and retreat centre and organize a gaggle of media phonies to fawn over visiting celebrities from distant lands.
All this occurs as the great Sol Invicti clashes with nasty Neptune while Venus the goddess moves into nitwit Sagittarius. You hire staff and subcontract yourself as a consultant, giving fawning lessons and full training in the arts of flattery, badinage, deception and equivocation. As the Full Moon comes in idiotic Taurus and your solar twelfth house, you fill the air with snide gossip and vicious rumours about the visiting dignitaries and superstars. You then set your staff to work, flattering and fawning at a good hourly rate, to soothe the bruised and wounded egos you yourself have created.
Soon you're hiring more staff and installing a hidden camera system so you can retire from the fray and oversee the operation, rather than wasting your talents in the trenches, as it were. You set a legal team to work to see what you can and can't do publicly, just to know which operations must remain covert. You take a lover from amongst the staff as well as maintaining a healthy degree of sexual activity with the rich and famous who now flock to your establishment. They do so largely to 'be seen' there, an activity that has become an essential pastime in the modern world where moral bankruptcy is a virtual guarantee of economic success.
Come the solar eclipse at the New Moon in snivelling Sagittarius, you launch the blackmail operations of a new venture under the code name 'I Spy'. You begin to blackmail visiting celebrities, then offer legal services and discreet private detection to assist these over-wealthy neurotics in tracking down the blackmailers.
As marauding Mars clashes with underworld Pluto, you're back on top of the heap. Venus the goddess moves into dreary Capricorn and you're rolling in ill-gotten gains. All too well do you know the old aphorism 'a fool and his money', little two-faced twits! But does that mean you as well? Being one of the more foolish I could name! Click here next month and see what might trouble this surging return to power and success!