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 Asperitus Casting Runes... |
Ave, my odious arachnids! Last time we left, you were swooning under the influence of spiritual manifestations and surrounded by backbiting and argument that threatened to cause mayhem or even a fatality at any moment. You had a house full of gossips and disputants, all eager for a séance yet more than willing to engage in backstabbing of a less than spiritual kind. You also had a medium that had sunk into a drunken stupor while all about her were spectres and phantoms of a family that seemed to be as odious in death as they were in life, your own!
What will it be this time? Let us consult the prognostications of a vile and bitter kind and so discover. In this instance they are those that pertain to the doings of manic March. In this instance, as manic March can be said to have begun (well and truly, in fact), we shall recount past events as a preamble to the dwindling but nonetheless compelling events that lie in wait in the days to come. Attend me now and tremble, my armour-plate poltroons with shiny insect eyes! It is I, Asperitus, the wittering wit of WONT! WONT of course is the ancient capital of Thrace, the wild mountain kingdom wherein I was born, giving rise to the elder proverb NEVER ASK A THRACIAN TO DO ANYTHING BECAUSE HE WONT. Thracians were versed in rustic wisdom but unconcerned about grammar and punctuation. That's enough of that! Try some of this instead! Grim Saturn groped narcotic Neptune at the launch of the proceedings and your house was awash with whirling spirit forms. The Full Moon then came in vexatious Virgo, bringing with it a Lunar Eclipse. Thus you decided that you didn't really like any of your friends and ordered them to leave your house in the tone of voice you use that generally gets things done. As the great Sol Invicti rattled the haunches of Uranus, the idiot god, with his foul and indecent attentions, the medium woke briefly from a drunken stupor, declared undying love for you then lapsed back into unconsciousness. The phantoms of your dead relatives looked on with increasing disapproval. As for what happened after that, I can't remember, as I dozed off. Assuredly it will have been associated with the farting of ghastly planets in nasty aspects for career concerns, home, health and finance will have been crucially affected. You may have had an office affair, murdered a member of your family, embezzled money and lied or deceived in order to gain career advancement. However, as those are all things you normally do, we can't really blame the planets, can we, my fiendish articles. That, I think, brings us up to the present moment. A nasty prospect in itself, but what can one do? Myself, I have always preferred the past or the future to the present. Living in the moment is a peculiar sort of snare for those who fail to appreciate the glories of irritation. How can one know the sublime power of the irritant force if one always enjoys one's activities! Ugh! Enough philosophy for now! I shall prognosticate for all I'm worth, a depressing prospect after my last bank statement, but there you are! By my sainted aunt (a most pertinent phrase in your current situation), what's this? It's marauding Mars cranking his shaft into cranky Chiron and you attempt sexual congress with a comely spirit presence, just to see if it can be done. As vamping Venus then slithers lustfully into the cloth-eared sign of the Bull, you receive a comely response and engage in a most unusual relationship, even for you. Mischievous Mercury slopes into wretched Pisces, on the coat tails of the New Moon in the sign of the Fishes, one that brings a Solar Eclipse to your house of romance. Thus you find you're having relations with someone who isn't really there. A most unnerving experience, though it has the virtue (if such it can be called) of being something completely different! Desirable for the arachnid as a relief from tedium! The great Sol Invicti then rolls and clatters into Aries and you decide to get on with life's daily business, working around the wafting spirits and semi-recumbent medium of intemperate habit, or the drunken sot under the table, as she would otherwise be called. As marauding Mars rams his rudest bit into the nether regions of narcotic Neptune, your relations with the comely spirit grow into a compelling ecstatic experience. Vamping Venus lewdly entices cranky Chiron into her evil grasp and you find you are in the clutches of a most powerful and addictive being that gives you more by seeming to give nothing. This creature is the 'Chinese meal' of erotic fulfilment. Half an hour later and you're hungry again! But then, when are you not hungry, little death bugs? As the curtain comes down on this latest cosmic performance, Uranus, the idiot god, upstages the Heavenly crew by forcing his jittery attentions on the Loony Nodes, sending your erotic life headlong into drama and a stunning dénouement. Click here next time to find out what it is, my little morbid farts! In the meantime, ave! |
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