Great elephants and farting camels! It was a seedy state indeed in which we left you last time, as Horse of the Yard fell at the first hurdle. Scrofulous digs, tawdry love life and futile employment seem more 'the burnt out ends of smoky days' as the poet has it rather than the grand design. Now, according to the five knots in my pocket handkerchief, it is malodorous May. So the only question that remains is the one posed at the tail end of last month's vile and bitters! Will things get better or worse?
Let us drink deep of the current dose and so discover! Here is the cup, O tiny lack-brains! Tip the rim! Imbibe!
Vamping Venus disports herself in fiery red Aries, ready for whatever addlepated ravishment the avid world might offer. Jolly Jupiter and the great Sol Invicti assail each other, rocking your solar twelfth and sixth houses with lascivious grunting. And so you decide lamp-lighting is a job for fools, especially in light (note the pun) of the invention of electricity at some past date you might care to look up on the internet if you've nothing better to do, which you probably haven't. Except that you have! Egad!
For what's this? A grand trine in water signs (how aqueous) sees you end your employment and relationship and move from your digs to take up residence in a bedsit above an internet café. A Full Moon blazes in morbid Scorpio and you determine you must do something to break the deadly rut in which the wheels of your cart are stuck. Marauding Mars grips the weakening thighs of narcotic Neptune and you have a bright idea. If you can't be a real detective, perhaps you can be a fantasy one. Inspired by THE GAME'S UP, BURGLAR BILL, a pseudo Victorian crime tome you've been reading, you decide to devise a board game where Inspector Horse will be the triumphant investigator.
Hooray for Horse of the Yard! Horse does it again! Horse pulls it off! And other quirky phrases of this ilk come into your mind. Thus you will live vicariously through the life of a fictional character, as your own life is unutterably dull. As dark Pluto provides evil congress for the great Sol Invicti and mischievous Mercury, you set yourself to work on the mechanics of the game, after hours on a computer downstairs. But what's this? Great gods alive and dead! It's mischievous Mercury and the great Sol Invicti rolling drunkenly into addlepate Gemini and the nasty media types that conned you into being Horse of the Yard to advertise the horse poo they were marketing arrive at your door. It seems they've hacked into the computer you use to write the game and like what they see!
By my little brown bottle! What a development! At first, you're filled with overweening rage about past slights and deceptions. Marauding Mars gropes the nether bits of vamping Venus and you threaten to pummel them, sexually harass them and steal their credit cards. And yet, in a stunning reversal of expectation, they confess to enjoying regular beatings, offer sexual services and also gratuities of considerable size.
As the New Moon comes in the perverted, supple sign of the two-faced one, it seems they want to develop the game, crapulous cretins! And they're ready to offer anything to get you to sign with them to develop and market it. Egad! The shoe is at last on the other hoof (as it were). You're on the up! You order them to strip naked, preparing to lay your plans and anything else you can get your hands on. These steamy and erotic shenanigans are all to do with marauding Mars in your solar eighth house (a ghastly realm of sex, occultism and taxes) and dark Pluto's congress with the busy messenger, if you're interested in the astrology.
Suffice it to say that the deepest mysteries will be penetrated with Inspector Horse on the job. Enjoy the ride, idiot equines! But will your number be up as you pass the finish post? Click here next time and see! Ave!