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    Go Back  The Jittery Journeys of November 2004  Go Forward
    Hooray to you, vacuous vanities! I shall don my best 'lion's den' look, yea a veritable Daniel, and enter boldly into the affray of your miserable lives. Attend me now, tragic pussy people! These are the vile and bitter prognostications for naughty November and I am the base deliverer of the blackest of medicines from the little brown bottle.

    We left you last time about to receive a visitor at the rooms where you now reside in the house of detention. A beauteous vision had come to bring you succour where all else had failed you. Or so you thought! Thus, you find yourself shaking a well-manicured hand, smiling that idiotic smile you have when you think people are going to be nice to you and bidding your guest to sit. Vamping Venus conjoins in unseemly fashion with jolly Jupiter and you imagine all the romantic possibilities from being swept off your feet into a more horizontal position to a bold bid for freedom as you break out of jail with an ardent and desperate companion. However, as the great Sol Invicti clashes with nasty Neptune, what transpires is vastly different, given you have misread every single aspect of the situation.

    Your visitor informs you that she/he has come from your legal representatives and, being the most junior of the team, she/he got the job of breaking some unfortunate tidings. An angry and disgruntled relative has gathered others of similar disposition and they are at this moment destroying your property with fire and pick-axe whilst assassinating the remaining shreds of your public standing with poisonous scandal.

    Yikes and double yikes, little twits! You scream and cry in a state of shock and horror. You fall aghast to the floor! You weep and wail, washing away the last of your gel in floods of hysterical tears. The beauteous one yawns behind a politely raised hand and leaves you for another pressing engagement with a brief reassurance that all that can be done will be done on your behalf and the bill is on its way in the mail. Lugubrious Saturn turns retrograde and you are carried in a parlous state to your cell, tranquilized and left to weep lonely tears beneath the heavy blanket of depression.

    In love with the drama of your life (as usual), you resign yourself to the abyss in which you find yourself. But then the fantasies begin. You start to dream of becoming a 'Monte Cristo' like figure, imprisoned for eons in a dank and miserable cell who will then escape, find riches and wreak revenge upon a lengthy list of enemies. Why not, little twits! It's as good an idea as any for a caged lion! You awake from your dark depression as marauding Mars enters morbid Scorpio and begin training your body to harden it for the revenge you will exact. Come a New Moon in that odious sign, you embrace the dark and wicked thoughts of your scheming subconscious, dreaming of the foul consequences that will fall upon your ungrateful family and relatives at the terrible touch of a pussy claw.

    Vamping Venus clashes with cranky Chiron and miserable Saturn and you shape your features into a grim and remorseless countenance, glaring at your fellow prisoners with such ferocious intensity that they begin to feel they have underestimated you when they thought you weak and foolish. Alas, even the hardened criminal mind can be entirely wrong about some things in a benighted universe ruled by insane gods. Mischievous Mercury conjoins with underworld Pluto and you begin to lay your plans for escape and a dreadful vendetta. Immediately, you realize you know nothing of the criminal mind and even less of criminal ways. Thus, as vamping Venus enters gloomy Scorpio, you decide to cultivate companions among the inmates in order to gather the necessary skills to execute your grand design.

    The great Sol Invicti moves to loony Sagittarius and clashes with idiot Uranus as the Full Moon comes in nitwit Gemini. Suddenly, my puling pussies, you find you are popular among your fellow felons. A star in stir is what you have become, with the grim set to your feline lips and your dark air of dangerous depression. By my little brown bottle, tragic nitwits! Perhaps you will find the success that has always eluded you here, on the seamy side of life in the big house. Vamping Venus cavorts in unseemly fashion with marauding Mars to challenge nasty Neptune and thus do you cultivate dangerous acquaintances in your bid to become the crime lord and underworld baron who shall be known as Pussy Mabusť. Click here next month and read your testament! Ta! Ta!

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