Ave, arachnid atrocities and dread rulers of unspeakable body parts and the ghastly functions that pertain thereto. Last time, your marital life was in disarray after you refused to sign a prenuptial agreement with a blackthorn tree that was your intended. Needless to say, the bans were not read and things deteriorated to the predictably uneasy mix of tragedy and farce that marks the fateful highway of your wretched existence. From there, you felt moved to hie you to Morocco and become an artist. You also opted to go into business, marketing the Herring Zombie, the last word in hallucinogenic cocktails and a drink whose heady delights you discovered whilst losing your mind in Oslo (this latter being a pastime popular among the locals).
So what will happen this time? Let us consult the vile and bitter prognostications for joyless July and so discover. Marauding Mars is the first cab off the rank as he barrels into the private parts of narcotic Neptune and you whisk yourself off to exotic climes in Morocco, at the same time negotiating the finer points of the Herring Zombie franchise. By my sainted aunt, what's this? Mischievous Mercury moves into perverse reverse and you have difficulty with a disagreeable official who seems to delight in putting obstacles in your path as you work to expand your horizons. However, you call on past business experience and arrange an assassin, a body bag and a burial at sea. This occurs as vamping Venus gropes Uranus, idiot god, and the problem disappears along with the disagreeable official.
As jolly Jupiter launches his crapulous bulk forward, you're set to make a fortune as you swan about the countryside, watching the Herring Zombie create a very special niche in the market of this mystic land. Mischievous Mercury cycles backward into neurotic Cancer and you wander the about in search of your seaside retreat. A Full Moon comes in lugubrious Capricorn and you purchase a flying carpet at a magical bazaar in Algiers so you can travel in style. Odds bodkins! Now that is bizarre! But is it believable? What do you think?
Before you answer that, you must ask yourself something. If you're reading the raddled rant of an elderly irascible astrologer that never posts the forecasts on time, never gives an actual date and insults you with a vocabulary that passed out of common use along with the crew of the Flying Dutchman, you're bound to believe in magic carpets.
On with the show! Vamping Venus exposes that which should remain hidden to the glare of dark Pluto and you're immersed in drugs, illicit sex and profit without end from the selling of the Herring Zombie. But as the gallivanting goddess flirts with the Loony Nodes then slithers into Cancer, you decide you must settle into the artistic life in a chosen seaside town. And Casablanca is your choice! Of all the Herring Zombie joints in all the world, you had to choose that one! It must be fate calling you, my ninnies of the anus! For fateful indeed are the matters that are writ in the unseemly congress of mischievous Mercury and dark Pluto, lord of the underworld, that guides you to this new home of yours. Marauding Mars barrels into vexatious Virgo and you have merely to enter the town to be surrounded by those that would be your friends. Oh joy!
The great Sol Invicti rolls drunkenly into lackwit Leo and you instanter purchase a café wherein you can make a habitat for art, artists and the assorted seedy life forms so necessary to stimulate artistic inspiration with bouts of hellish decadence. The New Moon comes in that same odious sign of the Lion and you open the doors to begin your new life. As mischievous Mercury moves forward again, you deal with overseas transactions and also hire a sultry singer and a darkly mysterious pianist to entertain the marks that come to the bar. Though, after several Herring Zombies, the west wind through a broken bottleneck would probably seem entertaining for them. Ah well!
Egad, my little loonies! All seems right with the world. You're rich. You have plenty to drink and sex on tap. You have music and artists about you! All seems perfect! And yet, what fly creeps through the ointment unseen? When will the devil raise his head and call your darkling spirit to account? Click here next month to see what transpires as time goes by. In the meantime, hail and farewell, my odious arachnids!