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 Asperitus Casting Runes... |
Salutations, hairdressing types! Last time we left you amid a crisis of confidence. What shall we find this time? Why, let us consult the vile and bitter prognostications for the month of joyless July and so discover.
Great Heavens, little loonies! Marauding Mars now gropes the body of narcotic Neptune and you endeavour to shuck off these ghastly feelings by having feverish sexual encounters. Sadly, it all goes wrong! As mischievous Mercury moves into perverse reverse, you express yourself poorly, creating arguments. Either that or you fall out of bed due to misdirected vigour or bang your extremities on the bedpost at unfortunate moments. As vamping Venus clashes with Uranus, the idiot god, you fall out with a friend who criticizes your hair or sexual habits or stinginess. As jolly Jupiter moves forward, you're so chagrined that you buy expensive things for your home and invite foreign persons to a lavish gathering there while telling your friends they can look in at the windows but not come inside. But, by my sainted aunt, frightful pussies! All this folderol does no good at all as mischievous Mercury returns to neurotic Cancer. You become emotionally unstable (eek! How precarious), throw a tantrum and lock yourself in your bedroom to cry, eat chocolate and play your favourite game, the only thing left over which you have total control. But what's this? Great trundling tea-trolleys and screaming loonies! It's a Full Moon in grim Capricorn and nothing about the house gets done and you can't be bothered getting up for work. Egad! Will you tumble to desuetude and unplanned obsolescence? It's entirely possible! But only if you could be bothered getting out of bed to look them up at dictionary.com so you would know what to do. Vamping Venus disports herself to gain the favours of dark Pluto, underworld lord, and friends come to taunt you as you play 'Lily Lie-abed'. They dress up in your favourite garments, handle your favourite knickknacks very roughly and make frank and unseemly sexual propositions. However, as vamping Venus briefly gropes the Loony Nodes before slithering into slimy Cancer, you drive them from the house with your incessant weeping then comfort yourself with food, drugs and a favourite childhood toy. Unsurprisingly, this is a bedraggled and much ill-used figure of a lion. But what's this? Great thundering camels and farting monkeys! It's mischievous Mercury, yet again set to deliver a cosmic clout as he cycles backwards into the surging loins of dark Pluto, the god of 'you know where'. Inspiration seizes you as you realize your bedraggled lion is the only friend you can truly rely on, the only one that has loved you and served your all your life without complaint. Instanter, you propose marriage, a union which, if not acceded to, is certes not denied by the fluffy creature you hold so tightly. After an overly vigorous honeymoon romp that proves nearly fatal for the tatty stitches of your darling, you rise from your bed that once was a bed of woe but now is a bed of newfound joy, just as marauding Mars barrels his passage (eek) into anal Virgo. You go back to work to make a pile of dosh so that, as well as paying for running repairs at the local Dolls' Hospital, you and your darling will live in comfort for the rest of your days. The great Sol Invicti rolls drunkenly into your appalling sign and you sing 'happy birthday' in a duet with your loved one, while imaginary wedding bells ring in the vast and largely empty reaches of your twisted mind. The New Moon comes in your sign and you're brushed and polished and shining like the star of bliss! Ah! How sweet and yet how totally misguided! As mischievous Mercury finally turns direct, we leave you wondering how to introduce your loved one at parties and social occasions. Should it be 'my spouse', 'my significant other' or the more mysterious and suggestive 'my friend' with an ever so slight hesitation placed meaningfully between the words. Or should it simply be 'this is my toy and sex partner as I'm a lonely tragic, unwilling to face the fact that no one likes me'. Food for thought, I expect. Chew on it in the interim then click here to discover the tortuous but unexpected windings of the dread path to which you have set your paws. In the meantime, hail and farewell, my fatuous felines! |
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