Asperitus Casting Runes...
Tally ho and yoicks, little centaur addlepates! What are you using for brains these days? No, don't bother to answer! I was making polite converse for the sake of form. Instead, let us turn, as we invariably do, to the vile and bitter prognostications for the upcoming month, nasty November in this instance. I shall bend my mighty predictive powers to the task and you shall bend your ears to listen to the master of sublime irritation, Asperitus, oracle of bitter truth! That's me by the way!
So, by my little brown bottle, I'd better get on with it, hadn't I? Otherwise you might get a word in edgeways and then where would I be? Why, importuning the heavenly medicine man for a stronger prescription, that's where. Now, let me see! Last month we left you nowhere in particular really, so this month we must paint on a broader canvas for you, the contumely denizens of jolly Jupiter, planet of exaggerated language and inflated ideas (especially those involving self-importance).
Gruesome planets lurk in your solar twelfth house, making ghastly aspects to each other in a way not fitting for a person of my sort to describe. Let us simply say that you visit a female occultist with a sour disposition and a bowel problem in order to obtain an esoteric reading that will reveal your purpose here on earth. Great gods alive and dead, she'll have to be good, little centaur addlepates. In all my years of study, I've never been able to grasp why you're here.
But let's not waste time on that! Among many revealing facts the irritating creature could not have known about you by any earthly means, she says you have an elderly relative about to pop the clogs. And, were you to compassionately assist her/his passing, you would have funds enough to go into business saving rain forests, healing animals or practicing the law, or indeed any of the nonsensical activities associated with your sign.
Great gods alive and dead, little centaur ninnies! Could you be guilty of such a vile thing as this? Could you visit an injustice upon a fellow being, an aged one at that? And, if you did, could you get away with it? You reel insensate from her darkened room, so stunned by her outré pronouncements that you head for the nearest bar to drink yourself to extinction.
Come the Full Moon and a lunar eclipse in odious Taurus, you awake the worse for wear in an unknown location. As mischievous Mercury enters your insufferable sign, you ask a passerby where you are and how you can find your way home. But, as Venus the goddess clashes with marauding Mars, you're reviled and rebuked by all around you in a strange and guttural tongue.
Venus the goddess clashes with jolly Jupiter and the minions of the law arrive to move you on. You protest and find yourself arrested. Gods, little idiot creatures! Does no one like you today? Have they all discovered the truth? As marauding Mars clashes with jolly Jupiter, you break free from the clutches of the law and flee to the seaside where you hide in an iron-roofed shack with a serious 'damp' problem. But even there you're ejected as the place turns out to be a hideout for a band of ruffians. They send you sprawling on the sandy beach, laugh harshly and mercilessly at your pain and humiliation, then return to the iron-roofed shack to hatch further evil plans to the detriment of society as a whole.
All this takes place under the auspices of a loathsome New Moon and a solar eclipse in your own idiotic sign while marauding Mars wrestles with underworld Pluto, so it's your own fault really. Venus the goddess moves into miserable Capricorn and we find you alone, on the beach, penniless in a strange location, wondering why you didn't take the occultist's advice and assist your elderly relative on a journey to a better land while you helped yourself to the inheritance.
Strange are the twists and turns of our meaningless lives! Vile and bitter are the prognostications that determine them! See you next month, little centaur addlepates!