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 Asperitus Casting Runes... |
Toodle pip, tiny farting children of the damned! Last time we left, you were preparing to sit in a séance and attempt to contact the spirit of a long departed female that was haunting your boudoir. Will it be table-rapping a la the Grace (and Kate) of Foxes? Will it be ectoplasm in the cabinet? Or will it be just the usual round of murder, embezzlement and bloody betrayal? Let us drink the dread draught, the vile and bitter prognostications for fateful February and so discover!
Hark to me, O daft and heinous rulers of the anus! I am Asperitus, terrible to behold and worse to listen to! I must warn you though! There is ghastly business afoot in Aquarius, sign of the idiot god! Too much for my liking! Thus, your home life may be in disarray and your family may be more than usually frustrating or peculiar. You yourself may give way to outbursts of irritation or eccentricity. You may do odd things about the domicile, walking or talking in a weird and perhaps certifiable manner. If you're not racked by fear and ready to retire from the frey having read thus far, then read on, MacDuff! And damned be he (or she) that first cries 'hold, enough!' As the month begins with a ghastly Full Moon in lackwit Leo, the medium arrives. She is a fearsome biddy with a cameo broach and a dictatorial manner. She orders you about like a servant, demands payment in advance and says she cannot bring forth the spirit voices without her special mineral water, imported from the Himalayas, an item for which you must reimburse her. She then produces a bottle filled with colourless fluid that comes, she claims, from a crystal stream and is charged with essence distilled from the petals of the Tibetan Rose, picked in the light of the waning Moon by virgin girls that dance in shimmering samite through snow-clad hills. Sadly, as the contents of the bottle look and smell like gin and, as she appears increasingly inebriated in the course of the séance, it seems you've been had, my darling dunderheads. Nonetheless, with all manner of ghastly planetary farting in tragic Pisces, the air about you filled soon fills with mist, eerie voices and dreamlike figures. The great Sol Invicti roisters with the nether regions of narcotic Neptune and you look about you, ill at ease and more than a little fearful. What is happening, tiny turnips? Are the gates to the otherworld set to open so that phantoms will ride forth? Yikes, double yikes and 'quelle horreur' that such a thing could be, and in your very own living room, what's more! However, as vamping Venus then commits all manner of indecencies with jolly Jupiter, the crapulent god, and the Loony Nodes to boot, this mystic performance is instanter brought to a halt! Eek! What's occurring? Egad, it seems the medium has for the nonce suspended the phantasmagorical display and is holding out her hand for further monies from the assembled anal neurotics that are laughingly referred to as your friends (the sign of Virgo on the cusp of your solar eleventh house). Acrimonious dispute erupts as the credulous in this gathering pay up while the distrustful accuse you of defrauding them and the parsimonious count out their coin to see if they will have enough for a bus fare home after they have made a contribution. As mischievous Mercury moves into perverse reverse, the discussion becomes heated as old grievances arise, old wounds re-open and misunderstanding reigns supreme. So much jealousy and resentment fills the air that you find yourself watching with amusement as friends shriek with rage about past sins while the medium becomes increasingly blotto. Several spirits manifest during the commotion but the medium instructs them not to be too ghostly until her palm is crossed with sufficient silver. But what's this? Gadzooks! Just as you begin to think there may be a worthwhile business proposition somewhere in all the mayhem, a ghastly New Moon comes in Aquarius, sign of the idiot god. Thus it is that several dear departed members of your family join the spiritual enclave that gathers in your living room. They look about the place with a sniff of disapproval at your activities, just as they used to do in the days when they still carried the mortal coil. Stunned as you are by this spectral development, your attention is wrenched back to the contretemps that is now in full swing in your living room. As vamping Venus gropes dark Pluto, it has all turned to threats of lawsuits and body bags. As the great Sol Invicti slithers into wretched Pisces, you try to wrest control of the situation as you've just had the carpets cleaned and would prefer that the merriment is kept to a hygienic minimum. However, as grim Saturn grinds his ancient bones against the body of narcotic Neptune, further spirit members of your family appear and subject you to silent and disapproving scrutiny. Vamping Venus rampages into Aries and you demand that everyone leaves your home, except for the medium who, as luck would have it, has passed out with her head in her hands on the table anyway. Wild spirit winds again rattle the eaves and blow through the domicile. Rising rage fills you as marauding Mars barrels into idiot Aquarius. Phantoms shuffle restlessly as you shriek venom at your spirit family members, just as mischievous Mercury also batters his way into the sign of the idiot god by means of the back door. You stride eccentrically about, carrying yourself at an odd angle (I warned you of this) and reliving ancient grudges about your home and upbringing and the torture of dark tales about pepper, frozen food and a giant bird that haunted your childhood dreams. As I'm too ill to continue with this piffle, I shall retire to the solace of my little brown bottle and my lovely silver tube. Medic! Bring them forth! Return here next time for further piffle. In the meantime, ave, odious arachnids! |
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