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Toodle pip, my darling Scales types! I must tell you I've suffered a mishap that will discombobulate our usual monthly intercourse. Here in Heaven, the staff has been busily decking the halls with boughs of holly, as is the seasonal custom. Due to a burst of Yuletide boisterousness, they have, inadvertently of course, sealed me in my ward with a nasty profusion of sprigs of the aforementioned spiny foliage. Thus, I am unable to vacate my boudoir and make my customary prognostications. Oh the tragedy! The tragedy! Still, I expect we shall recover in time.
However, the good news is that I am able to psychically commune with a minion (ugh) in order to convey to you, not the customary vile and bitters, but a little chortling, chiding and chastisement to carry you through diabolical December. Such merriment as I can provide will take you to the threshold of 2007, a particularly nasty year, all things considered. But then they all are, in my considered opinion. Enough of the pleasantries! Let's get on with it!
Dec 5th will bring a loony Full Moon in idiot Gemini. You will have altercations with foreigners, cause affray in traffic or suffer an upset stomach from eating spicy food. You will knock down a peripatetic academic or crash your car into the gates of a university and end up with legal problems. Marauding Mars then batters his bumptious way into silly Sagittarius and you will have a bruising encounter with a rough or ill-mannered pedestrian that swears at you in foreign tongue. Further nitwit planets now posture and cavort in the odious sign of the Centaur and you're embraced on the footpath by a dark-haired beauty and a grim secret is told to you. As vamping Venus groans and grinds her way into the miserable sign of the Goat, you buy an armchair, hold a party that no one attends or endure the visitation of an elderly or infirm relative.
A New Moon arrives in idiot Sagittarius and you pay to have your autobiography translated into Castilian to see if it will sell in Spain. However, with jolly Jupiter in Sagittarius, passing traffic in your street raises a ruckus as persons drive by in foreign cars, tooting and yelling offensive remarks about your Castilian autobiography in the tongue of Aragon, reviving an ancient rivalry, a practice favoured by the Spaniard. As further planets grope their way into Capricorn, you mope at home, dreading the passage (eek) of yet another Christmas and hoping the New Year will be better which, of course, it won't.
Ave, bottom types! If I can cut a way through the holly with nail clippers, I will return to prophesy a ghastly doom for the coming year, for you and all the other animals of the silly spinning wheel of the Zodiac.
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