Hola, chortling imbeciles! I write this from my bed where I'm held prisoner by a band of irksome elves, a gaggle of giggling gnomes and a rut of randy reindeer. This dire situation may be an hallucination due to a recent increase in my prescription strength or it may indeed be grim reality. I prefer not to know. However, this bound and recumbent position leaves me unable to prognosticate in a vile and bitter manner, as is the custom. Thus will I present, with unaccustomed brevity and in the absence of circumlocution, a bit of chortling, chiding and chastisement to guide you through Yule and into the year beyond which, I warn you at this point, will be appalling.
I shall make grim prophecies on the topic at a suitable moment. In the meantime, bumptious bovines, you will be fiscally challenged at the Full Moon in Gemini on Dec 5th. Marauding Mars bangs into bumptious Sagittarius the next day so you'll spend what you have anyway then fornicate as often as possible in an average working day. A great many things happen to you after that but I cannot, for the life, of me recall what they are as I'm distracted by a leering countenance, belonging to what must be the ugliest gnome this side of Gargantua's gonads. Vamping Venus then has infernal intercourse with dark Pluto, underworld god, and your desire for spending and sex gets out of control. You visit brothels, join a sex cult or have an affair with someone in the Tax Department in a desperate effort to sort out your financial affairs. As a New Moon comes in silly Sagittarius, you soon reach a working arrangement involving occult forces, hypnotism or embezzlement. You'll suddenly be fabulously wealthy and purchase a home in the country (with pillars and arches). You'll hire a chef and go for walks in the woods, thinking about life, religion and philosophy. Ghastly planets in the sign of the Goat decree this. For Christmas, you'll buy a set of embossed books on mysticism and order several arches to be built to enhance your water feature.
By New Year's Eve, you'll learn to sing Auld Lang Syne in the original Gaelic and talk to the rabbits in the woods as though they really are your friends. I must go now as a rather winsome elf is getting a basic lesson in anatomy from one of the reindeer so I'll have to find somewhere else to look for a moment. Things involving reindeer never last long, mercifully. Ave, my darling boofheads!
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