Sun Sign Horoscopage: 25th–31st October, 2010

Monday’s Moon pulls herself out of her trench, dashes across to the Gemini house, and uploads her pics of yesterday’s Mars Uranus firework display to Flickr. Meanwhile, the fading eclectic electric crackle inspires Mercury and Venus to grab some alone time in the Scorpio basement jazz club. Forgetting the Sun is quietly sipping a mojito in a booth, they turn the sign to Closed.

Tuesday’s Sun, not quite over the shock, has interesting things to tell club co-owner, Pluto. More mojitos. And some salted peanuts. Knackered Mercury sleeps through his afternoon meeting with Jupiter.

Calmly equanimous due to his stay at Libra’s, Saturn takes Mercury for a head-clearing autumn walk on Wednesday.

Thursday’s Mars has had enough of jazz. It never goes anywhere. He packs his army surplus backpack and yomps across to Sagittarius’s spacious home. He’s the first one here, this year. There will be company soon enough.

Friday’s Sun offers Venus a mojito. With a slow wink, she asks for extra sugar.

*

Apologies for the weeklies being more miss than hit these last few weeks. I’m living in a displaced kitchenless muddle of brick dust. The snug physical space I’d carved out for Distracted is full of old kitchen innards (and brick dust); the snug time space I’d kept aside has been sucked up by hoovering (brick dust) and trying to make food from old kitchen innards. Yup, we’ve still got the builders in and it has reached critical impact. All good, but rather disruptive. And don’t talk to my Pluto-plagued second house Cappy Moon about the loss of savings.Tell it to think instead about the transformed home.

Brick dust: has ever the concrete been more nebulous? Saturn, ruler of my Moon and Venus, co-ruler of my Mercury, meet Neptune, co-ruler of my Sun. Perhaps brick dust has been this distracted astrologer’s problem all these muddled years.

Anyway.

*

Aries

Overwhelming impulses to start a holy war after midweek should be treated with caution. Could you not just, oh I don’t know, paint tin kettles in pretty flower designs or something instead? No? But stitching explosives into your vest will ruin the line, you know. Most unflattering.

Taurus

On Monday, spell out your desires with magnetic letters on the fridge door. Be direct and succinct: you simply don’t have enough letters for rumpy pumpy. (I think I last saw the X in the fruit bowl.)

Gemini

A delicious start to the week soon becomes frustrating. Don’t try and talk your way out of trouble you have caused — you’ll be called on your bullshit. Collect.

Cancer

You’ve been doing a bit of growing recently. It’s again time for a new shell, once more the old one’s a little tight. It’s a vulnerable thing, this shell-shifting. All soft skin and exposed tender bits. Leave the move until Thursday, when Pluto and the Sun give you the thumbs up to enjoy a bit of a nudey stretch before you scuttle off into your new roomier armoured shelter.

Leo

Blooming heck, but there was a lot of bonking in this week’s UK broadcast of True Blood. Bonk, bonk, bonkybonk. Loads of ‘em at it. The next day I followed a link to this Sesame Street True Blood skit and my head went pop, just a little. This week, Leo, unlike me, who struggled a bit, you are perfectly placed to keep a childlike joy and sense of innocent fun whilst rampantly getting your end away.

Virgo

I spend a little time working with a perfectly pleasant Virgo who simultaneously expects all around them to give their most excellent best, whilst indicating in a thousand fiddling ways that nobody else can do anything even adequately. This week, Virgo, if somebody around you bursts and you find your head being held down in the toilet bowl while the cistern is flushed, be sure to let them know, as you splutter up for air, that they are really very fortunate to have you around as a litmus indicator of their own personal underachievement.

Libra

It might feel distinctly unsparkly, Libra, but some alone time this week will help you work out which thoughts are truly your own. This is not the best time to follow the herd. Mind you, a million lemmings can’t be wrong.

Scorpio

This is your time! Trick or trap! Throw a party for one! Celebrate darkly! Have a cake with a black candle! And clowns*!  Happy happy happy!

*No Dark Side adjustment required.

Sagittarius

In his fabulous book, The Inner Sky, the fabulous Steven Forrest makes a simply – and absolutely – fabulous observation about you Saggies. Your sign is not the archer but the arrow. You are shot off up and away into the far distance, seeing and wondering about all. Not least the nature of the archer. Are there parts of your quest, your questioning, your journey, which have been flagging recently, Sag? Not to worry: from midweek your flight feathers are smooth and your arrowhead is wind-sharp steel. Oh yeah, and you have a firm shaft.

Capricorn

When midweek puts sugar in your tank, remember there’s always the bus. It’s been a while, but they still run to the same old necessary destinations. Before you lock and abandon your car, remember to root around in the ashtray for enough coins for your fare. Exact money only.

Aquarius

Swings and roundabouts, people say. You lose, you gain. Swings and roundabouts. Nobody ever mentions what happens on the monkey bars. This week, Aquarius, find the monkey bars.

Pisces

Tricksy times call for the Fortunately game. Make the trickier bits of your life into a simple sentence, stick in fortunately as a connective, and add an extra clause. For example:

  • I have no milk in the fridge and no money until Friday, fortunately, I’m lactose intolerant.
  • My husband has left me for Sven, his personal trainer, fortunately, without his grunting snoring fetid duvet-stealing bed-hogging body I can now sleep soundly, and wake relaxed and refreshed.
  • My left arm is covered in bed bug bites, fortunately, I joined the dots together with a green Sharpie and now I have an uncanny indelible likeness of Mel Gibson on my forearm.

(No, not such a good example, that last one.)

*

P1260258

P1260265

This used to be DA’s place in space and time.

*

Sun Sign Horoscopage 27th September – 3rd October, 2010

The Moon lazes through Monday before stretching a forefinger to update his speed dial contacts: a big job which takes until midweek.

On Thursday, Venus and Jupiter have the strangest feeling they are not supposed to be getting along. What can the major and minor benefics do about that though? Have a cuddle and not quite get their arms comfy?

Friday’s Mercury, full of ideas, determines to show the pair how antipathy works. Spotting Chiron and Neptune by the Aquarius back fence, he tweaks the centaur’s nose with his left hand and twists the sensitive skin at the top of the sea god’s thigh with his right. Jupiter grabs Mercury by the ear, drags him back to the Virgo house and locks him in. The god of communication texts soft-touch Venus to ask for the spare key. She ignores him.

The Sun and Saturn put their authoritative heads together, and bring in Uranus to plan a radical solution to Mercury’s mischief. He has to learn how to treat planets nicely. On Sunday, he is packed off to Libra camp. Harsh.

Venus and Mars round off the weekend by … oh, not again. Tell me when it’s safe to look.

*

Aries

You think you think you do but you don’t. Not really. Not until Sunday.

Taurus

.

.

.

.

(That space above is your horoscope for the week Taurus. It is a space because my husband is a Taurus and any accurate Taurus horoscope I write for next week will give him Ideas. I am too busy for Ideas so please be happy with this space.)

Gemini

When the Moon travels through your sign midweek, Gemini, it has a lovely time with the Sun in Libra, and does something positively constructive with Saturn. Wring every drip of pleasure sauce out of this, because the kick-end of the week indicates a head-fuckage of mind games. When you’re in the scribbly, hurty middle of it all, take a Sun memo from Libran Thom Yorke. [Oh hell, am I really about to quote Radiohead?] You do it to yourself, you do, and that’s what really hurts. [See what you made me do, Gemini? The next pint’s on you]

Cancer

It’s hot water time again, Cancer, but takes a big pot to cook a crab like you. Nothing comes to the boil until late week, so you have a fair bit of time to scuttle off sideways and find a safe place to hide. I can’t do anything about the elastic bands over your snippy claws though, sorry. Just be happy you’re edible.

Leo

That’s a lovely sofa, Leo. Please stick your hand down the back of the cushions for a good feel around this week. You’ll find lost treasure. Please use it to pay the bills, not to buy sweeties. Not even sweeties to share; it’s important that you settle what’s due.

Virgo

I put in an order for Virgo easy times with delicious cakes that miss the hips anddoves of peace that don’t moult on the parquet. I’ve not heard anything back; there must be a Mercury shadow backlog on meeting reasonable demands for the overstressed and overstretched. This week please remember that the monsters of your dreams are only in your dreams. There are none under your bed, not even that most hideous monster of all: the dust bunny.

Libra

Something there is that loves a wall, Libra. This week that something is you. Your new solution to the problem that is other people not doing things the way you feel they should be done, is to build a solid partition across your living room between you and them. There, that’s better. You could add some glitter to the mortar for a bit of Venus pizzaz, or slap on some render and consult Dulux colour charts.

Scorpio

Only you could wind people up like that and enjoy such a priapic result.

Sagittarius

I hope by now you’ve practised so hard you can do it in your sleep. What Venus and Mars get up to in your twelfth house this week indicates you can. Don’t blush, they’re only sheets. In other news: this week’s quandary is holy crusade or hobnobs and Holby City?

Capricorn

It’s all a bit of a muddle this week, Capricorn, but don’t worry. By the weekend you are Charlie Potatoes. Big time.

Aquarius

Each week I sit here and think I have nothing to write. My tummy does this tumbling blue knotted string thing and I go off and do the washing-up or peel some veggies. I always come back, and always have something to write. This week, Aquarius, is a bit like that for you. I hope you like clean dishes, carrots, and some sort of unrelated scribble at the end of it all. After which you will have the delicious, light feeling of having done all of your homework.

Pisces

I listened to two four-year-old girls recently, Pisces, as they discussed the depth of the sandpit and Grandma France. The sandpit was as deep as Australia, said one, then there was the world, then the sky, then space, then heaven. Grandma France, said the other, is in heaven. Is she not in France any more then, asked the first. No, the second replied, she was in France, but she swapped houses.

This week what some call change and loss, you call swapping houses.

*

P1260101

Sun Sign Horoscopage 20th-26th September, 2010

The teenage Aries daughter has provoked the Taurus dad to bellow and retreat to the kitchen, the Gemini airhead son is tucked away into his book, so it must be time for the soggy Distracted to poke around in next week’s Correlation Street.

Monday is quiet, as Chiron brings the Sun superglue to fix the old German weather house the giant mass of incandescent gas has found on Virgo’s windowsill. It doesn’t go smoothly, the Sun glues himself to the little woman who pops out whenever he shines.

Spotting the Sun’s predicament, on Tuesday Jupiter and Uranus grab the little man who comes out when it rains and give him a good jiggle. All shaken up down the other end, the Sun turns quite green.

All the movement wibbles the weather house to the very end of the Virgo window sill. First thing Thursday morning, it tips up and over into Libra’s garden, taking the Sun with it. The Moon, ever around at this time, and full of shiny new essential Aries oomph, grabs the rainy end and gives the man with the brolly a ruddy good shake. It works, and the Sun bounces free. Woken by the racket, Pluto gives the pair of luminaries a long, hard stare. The Moon quickly moves on, but the Sun is caught, apologetic with his head down, until he says sorry on Sunday, his day, like the name says.

That’s the main story for this week, although Mars and Saturn nurse a little subplot on Saturday, where they finally discover what happens when unstoppable meets immovable, but forget to upload it to Youtube. Will we ever know?

*

Aries

Being Alexander the Great can be such a drag. King of Macedon and most of mainland Greece, you conquer big old lumps of Asia only to have your troops pout, fold their arms, and refuse to even try to conquer India. This week, Aries, you are Alexander. Should your troops let you down, go on without them. You’ll only be facing eighty thousand horsemen, two hundred thousand footmen, eight thousand chariots, and six thousand war elephants. If you want to be fancy, tie one hand behind your back.

Taurus

However much you feel that your job compromises your artistic integrity, no one at work wants to see your sad-eyed puppy paintings. Someone violently waving your employment contract in front of your face midweek helps you get over yourself, and you start to do the work you are employed to do. It’s not that bad. Don’t Jeff it up by booking a last-minute break.

Gemini

Flex those Twitter fingers. This week’s updates will include:

  • OMG!!! She has hairs on the palms of her hands! HAIRY PALMS!
  • And YELLOW EYES! OMFG!!! WTF kind of club IS this????
  • RT @philatelynow WE HAZ R 10TH MEMBA! SUK THAT, DOWTERZ! ROCK ON, STAMPERZ!!!!!!!!
  • GOOOOOO0OOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLL

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Cancer

There’s a tussle between home comforts and career success this week, as your reheated leftovers empty the staff room. You’ll be able to salvage the situation, so long as no one sees your partner spit on their tissue and wipe your cheek when they drop you off in the morning.

Leo

This week sees an end to a recent attack on everything you value. Phew. And the start of an attack of everything you say. Bugger. Forgive them, pussycat, they know not what they do, and all that.

Virgo

I recently bought a x5 magnification mirror. I call it my HD mirror. It mocks me. It would not make the perfect gift from you to your partner this week. Be nice. No, not what you call nice — what generally passes for nice between normal people. Be that.

Libra

The Sun comes out for you this week, Libra. Dammit, yes, we should all just get along and live in harmony with bluebirds and white doves and the whole damn aviary. Just watch out for dive-bombing Arieseses.

Scorpio

This week finds you scrawling angst-ridden, terrible poetry about how the daily grind. Oh joy. Couldn’t you just invent a whole new daily grind instead? It would be far more fun.

Sagittarius

I hope you did your homework last week, Sag — I know a couple of you did — because this week you are uniquely placed to be able to help me with a question. There has been a bit of research, the dubious results of which would suggest that the thrill of getting a special offer on your shopping is equal in intensity to the thrill a body gets when it watches a naughty film. Seriously, a special offer on Marmite gave the fifty people involved an erotic tremble. I am worried and confused. My question is: who is doing what so badly wrong?

Capricorn

This week you are caught between the stroppy and the passive-aggressive. To survive with any sanity you must reach deep down inside your Capricorn goody bag for ways to be a patiently authoritative father-figure. Or you could just smite them.

Aquarius

At the end of a tizzily tiring week a well-caffeinated genie pops up from out of the coffee pot to grant you one — just one — wish. Start planning now.

Pisces

The fairies aren’t going to do it for you. It is not that they don’t exist; it is just that they are bastards.

*

P1260029

Sun Sign Horoscopage: 13th–19th September, 2010

Mars and Uranus spend Monday trying to cross Correlation Street carrying a long plank of wood and a pane of glass.

On Tuesday, co-owner Mars moves his combat gear into Scorpio’s basement jazz club. The tease of Venus perfume in the air makes him quite perky. Pluto, the other club co-owner, slowly turns for a better look.

Wednesday’s Mercury — Mercredi’s Mercury — spends his day talking with Saturn about what makes the sombre planet quite so glum. Just look at all those rings and moons, just like a playground, why the sad face? By evening, when emotional Moon moves into Saturn’s Capricorn home, the serious planet feels so much better. (Look, this is my
astrology blog, okay? I don’t care how unlikely that is …

… in fact …) Then Venus blows the grumpy old child-eater a Friday morning kiss, and he positively glows. (Ha.)

Sunday is busy as Jupiter, Uranus, Mars, Pluto, the Sun and Neptune all try to meet the end-of-week deadline for planetary goings-on.

*

Aries

Realising early on this week that you look like a bit of a twat, you finally take off the floppy velvet hat with the feather. Vowing vengeance on all have sniggered at you over the past few weeks, you sew yourself into a midnight black cat suit and give yourself over to the dark side. I suggest dropping stink bombs on buses, and wrapping clingfilm over loo seats.

Taurus

This week finds new depths to your stubborn bloody-mindedness. I’m just going to step aside and leave you to it. See you next week.

Gemini

Hurray! This week you stop telling the same story over and over and over again. People stop being afraid to be in the same room as you, for fear of their heads falling off through the boredom. You have a new thought, and buff it to a shine with complimentary ideas. Catch it in a box on Sunday, before it flies away to play merry hell with air traffic control.

Cancer

Wearing big pants for the last half of the week will not stop you flashing a builder’s bum crack. You can try tying your jumper around your waist or digging out that unfortunate maxi dress, but there will still be a set of circumstances that end with you bending over and flashing your moons to the world. I’m sorry, I can’t help it, it’s in the stars.

Leo

You know, Leo, you are many things I would love to be. Don’t waste the end of the week dreaming about what is not and will never be. Ignore those who call you facile; we know that what they call lame is really lamé. It’s all in the accent.

Virgo

It’s far too nice a week for you to be sitting around inside. Go on, go out and get some fresh air. You can take a scarf if you must. And a flask.

Libra

Your get up and go might have got up and gone by midweek, but rejoice, because so will your prickly cranky-knickers. Get out and get on the silk frillies while you can, before Friday brings much-washed 100% cotton apple-gatherers.

Scorpio

This week finds you hunting through a Libra’s bin, for the prickly cranky-knickers they are throwing out. Whatever does it for you. And whatever does it for you really does it for you on Saturday night. You might want to set an Aries trap, they are wearing black cat suits this week, you know.

Sagittarius

Writing this week’s Horoscopage I can’t help but be aware that many people are up to naughties. Sorry it’s not you, but you still have quite a bit of work to put in on your technique. That’s your homework. There will be a test.

Capricorn

Oh look, Pluto’s going direct in the early degrees of your sign this week. If it hasn’t already got you, it will … eventually. Never mind though, eh. You are a sensible sort and don’t really believe in all this astrology rubbish. And it’s only a planetoid, after all.

(I don’t remember the last time I fluttered my innocent eyelashes so much. I feel quite dizzy.)

Aquarius

This week, Aquarius, if you pull the wings off the butterfly of hope don’t moan if they serve you caterpillar stew. And weevil bread. With weewee wine.

Pisces

Yeah? Tell that to the accountant.

*

P1250326Distracted Astrologer’s Cappy Moon conjunct transiting Pluto for one last time has got the builders in.

*

(Tommy has not come home. Let’s see whether Mercury Direct can bring the odd-eyed fluffy idiot back to those who tolerate his antisocial habits and really rather love him. Thanks for singing along.)

*

Sun Sign Horoscopage 6th–12th September 2010

The first Sun Sign Horoscopage was for the week beginning the 7th September, 2009. Happy birthday Distracted Astrologer! Writing you makes me very happy. And sometimes burn bits of the Sunday dinner and swear.


Monday’s Moon swipes the bottle of Eau du Fabulous from the spot-lit Leo dressing table and spends the day on Correlation Street, pretending she works on Debenhams scent counter. No thank you, nobody wants a tester, Pluto gets it in his eyes. The Sun, however, is quite taken, returning for a squirt down his décolletage.

Tuesday finds allergic Uranus still trying to scrub off the last of the sneezy scent. Venus leaps in with the soap, offering to help and soaping up bits the eclectic outer planet is quite certain were never — and have never — been sprayed with anything.

It all gets very messy and silly. Wednesday’s new Moon in Virgo turns up not before time, leaving Venus to glower away down to the Scorpio cellar, where she overindulges in black Russians and bad jazz until Jupiter tucks her safely in bed with a bucket and a pint glass of water. The gas giant then moves back to the Pisces riverside dream house, to be just that little bit closer to Venus and keep an eye on things. Isn’t he nice.

Friday’s Mars is dead excited. A long conversation with Neptune leaves him convinced that the only thing which stops him from being able to run through the wall of the Libra house is the belief that he can’t.

Chiron spends Saturday bandaging Mars’s many broken and bruised bits.

Thinker Mercury and Saturn the wall-builder snigger. Meanwhile, co-owner Pluto arrives at his Scorpio basement bar, sees Venus, and stops dead.

*

Aries

This week, you finally admit that your secret desire to do unspeakables with unmentionables is not just going to go away. What else are weekends for?

Taurus

When was the last time you trimmed those nasal hairs? No one can concentrate when you have that shiny bogey dangling from your nasal nest. You are going to be compellingly magnificent at work by the end of the week, so prepare: one fresh AA battery in your hygienic clipper now saves you wasting that splendid end on repeating yourself.

Gemini

Think on:

epic fail photos - sign fail
see more Epic Fails

Cancer

Tim Vine won this year’s Edinburgh Festival Best Joke Award. More than any other sign, Cancer, the last few weeks have made you appreciate his wisdom:

I’ve just been on a once in a lifetime holiday. I’ll tell you what – never again.

From midweek your home life becomes less charming, while work provides no escape. Sorry. Try daubing graffiti on the office loo wall with your non-dominant hand.

Leo

The UK press are reporting that next week some six million people will be contacted by Her Majesty’s Revenues and Customs. Due to a tax code cock up, some will be owed a tax rebate, others will be several thousands in arrears. What the press is not reporting is that every single one of these people is a Leo.

Virgo

Where are we up to? Have you meticulously blown out the candles and scrubbed up every splodge and crumb, or have you yet to reach for the spirit level and ice that birthday cake? Whichever, it’s your month, enjoy it. Wednesday gives you a free pass to a full-on Virgo blow out. Use the time well, the world could do with a deep clean.

Libra

Midweek, someone close gives up on trying to keep you sweet, and tells you just what a passive aggressive twat you can be. This could end in an elaborate plan for revenge, or in some really interesting sex. What do you reckon?

Scorpio

You know when you feel really pointless? That what you have to say is going to be one teeny weeny tinny tiny voice against the roar? I feel that way now, knowing what I have to say to you. Oh well, here goes: from midweek, Scorpio, try, if you can, to give up a little of your need for absolute control. You might not know what to do with Venus, but Venus knows what to do with you. Lie back and let her happen.

Sagittarius

Knowing it will hurt doesn’t stop you from poking that old bruise, or picking off the scab to see if it’s healing underneath. Even if you’re still limping, get out on Sunday. Sunday has wise people, sage advice, and sage and onion stuffing.

Capricorn

When things work this week, Capricorn, it’s because you make them work. Put in the effort and boulders will roll from cave mouths. Buggered if I know whether there’s anything in the caves worth having, but look! It’s a cave! You did that.

Aquarius

This week works best, Aquarius, when you don’t pretend to be something you’re not. Flex the muscles in your back and that humanoid skin will slough right off. Liberating isn’t it, shows off your curves. And those strange scaly bits.

Pisces

You are the master and mistress of Adapt and Survive. It’s served you well this summer. Now it’s time to sit back with a generous glass of your favourite way to Neptune and take stock. Or stock take, rather. Adapting is all very well, but how many of your original parts do you have left? Are those your eyes, or are you seeing someone else’s world? Are those your feet, or are you walking someone else’s journey? Is that your mouth, or are you voicing another’s opinions? I hope you still have your own bum: you know what they say about your own farts being easiest to tolerate. (Is that your laptop or is that the police at the door?)

*

Finally, could you do me a favour? Tommy, the owner of the white paw at the top of the page, has disappeared. Could you watch this vid and sing along with the chorus. If enough of us do, maybe, just maybe, who knows, the fluffy idiot might just come back.

*

P1250044

*

hiccup

Your weekly sun sign horoscopage will return on Sunday 5th September, for the week beginning Monday 6th.

Until then, don’t worry, the odds are better than they might seem. Sort of. A bit.

look cute for teh camera

Snogs with tongues.

Sun Sign Horoscopage 2nd–8th August 2010

Venus starts the week by baiting her Sun trap with a green cheese square. She hides behind the Leo sofa with the tweezers and waits … shortly, the Sun lets her know he is not amused by his new startled look.

Jupiter’s right bored in the Aries house on Monday night. Sighing with an extravagance of ennui, he twitches the daft electric blue cloak from the shoulders of a snoozing Uranus. He spends the night in disguise,tweaking Pluto’s tiddly toes just as Uranus did last week.

Wednesday’s Mars holds Jupiter at knifepoint … what? He’s MARS, this is what happens if he doesn’t keep busy – have you ever met an Aries at a loose end? Yeah, that’s what I’m saying … where was I? Oh yeah … at knifepoint for the cloak. The last we see of him is squeezing through the cat flap of the Capricorn castle. Poor Pluto, that’s the second bad night in a row.

Late week, Venus stands on a wheelbarrow outside the Aquarius kitchen window, berating Neptune and Chiron for not using the curtain tie-backs and inviting them to come see how she does it round Virgo’s.

On Saturday, Venus is booted out of Virgo’s for expressive use of curtain tie-backs. She sighs, uses the key to her Libran home, and pours herself a stiff one. Uranus interrupts her peace by asking if she’s seen his cloak. Leaving, he bumps heads with the Sun, who asks him if he’s seen the rest of his eyebrows.

Sunday’s Saturn gives Venus a hard stare, daring her to touch his rather splendid, swooping brows. I think we’ll leave it there, and advise Venus to do likewise.

*

Aries

Do you do as you would be done by? Been there done that? When all’s said and done, this week the do-er is being done to. Are you undone or did you done good?

Taurus

Your focus is not the best this week. Too many late nights with a bottle, pork scratchings and the private browsing setting are beginning to tell. You celebrate a clean new start on Saturday: what’s a good way to celebrate?

Sunday’s hangover’s a killer, and please do something with those tissues.

Gemini

Even though nobody is listening to a word you’re saying this week, it’ll still come back to haunt you in mid September. No, I don’t know how, just why. Sheesh.

Cancer

The lucky among still cannot shake a vague sense of undirected unease that sleepwalks you to the biscuit tin at three a.m. The rest of you are really in the shit. Congratulations, as Bernadette Brady would say were she with you at the Hobnobs, you’re doing the astrology really well.

Leo

You know, Leo, a lot is said about how you love attention, how it makes you glow. How praise makes your coat glossy and the whites of your eyes bright. Less is said about how much people get back from you, about how your generosity beams the good stuff right back out. That’s a shame. This then is for you:

When no one else can understand me [not that I’m saying you CAN understand the rest of us, just that you love us anyway]
When everything I do is wrong [and blissfully under your radar as it’s not about you, oh sweet oblivion]
You give me hope and consolation [and sweeties]
You give me strength to carry oooonnnnnn [by not shutting me up because you’re not listening anyway, just smiling, which is fine]
And you’re allllllways there, to leeennnd a hand, with everything I doooooo [okay, so that last bit is stretching it]
That’s the woooonnnndeeeeerrrrr, the wonder of yooouuuuuuu.

Take what you want, toss the rest.

Virgo

I’ve started writing this week’s Virgo three times now, and three times I’ve deleted it. Not highlight then Delete, but that satisfying Pacman backspace gobble of letter after single letter. Every time I’ve followed the aspects for next week and written something that is non-purposefully [word?] personally pertinent to a different Virgo I know. You would think I was nicking from what you’ve told me in confidence to parade your problems on here, and really I’m not. That would be vulgar. My conclusion has to be that, like some Cancerian natives this week, you are doing the astrology really well. Congratulations.

Libra

You’ve had a few days now to wear in your new technique of aggressive passive aggression. The rest of us are still in shock, frozen between slap and drop and roll. Refine the pricklier arsehole bits from next weekend.

Scorpio

There’s never been a better time. Well, not since the last time.

Sagittarius

I’ve not heard a lot from you recently — everything okay? I hope you’ve got your head down and your bum up, busy working on that opus.

Capricorn

See Scorpio’s vid this week? Strike that and reverse it. Boss to Goth. Pluto sez.

Aquarius

This week a lot of sex will make a lot of things a lot better. F.A.P?

Pisces

Throwing money at a situation this week doesn’t help. Unless you are a fast bowler with a pile of small, sharp-edged coins. Or you could stand on tippy toe at the tippy top of a tallest tall building you ever did see and drop pennies on people’s heads. That would work.

*

P1230879

Distracted Astrologer is holding out for a hero.

*

flutterbye bye Virgo, hello Libra, my what tasty cabbages you have

On the day of Saturn leaves Virgo to spend the next couple of years in Libra, a newly-emerged butterfly flies off my [Virgoan* washing-up-wrinkled] fingers towards the blue glass Saturn in my flowerbed, and on to lay eggs on some poor sod’s cabbages.

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAA.

Saturn in Libra, 21st July 2010

*I’m not Virgo — I have a Pisces Sun, Virgo MC — but those washed-up washing-up-pruney fingers certainly are.

*

Sun Sign Horoscopage 19th–25th July 2010

The folk on Correlation St have liked having Chiron kipping round at the Pisces house. The booze cupboard has made him all cuddly, and everyone likes a cuddle when they’re hurting. On Tuesday though, Chiron sobers up and staggers back to the brushed aluminium Aquarius medicine cabinet.

By Wednesday, Chiron’s so impressed with the results of two ibruprofen and an Alka Seltzer that he decides to cure everyone. And if there’s nothing to cure, dammit, he’ll find something. He knocks on the Virgo door with a bottle of homeopathic Arsenicum Album for Saturn. The misunderstood curmudgeon sighes, leaves the bottle of tiny pills on the kitchen table and quietly packs up and moves next door to the Libra house, where the centaur can’t find him.

Oblivious, on Thursday Chiron tries again, banging on the door of the Cancer house until the Sun opens up. Beaming, the centaur presses a small bottle of Lycopodium in the gas ball’s hand. Digestive remedies from a limping horseman? Bugger that, the Sun chucks his undies into a Morrison’s carrier bag and shifts to Leo’s palace. Home at last. Sat on the rococo gold throne with his feet up on a purple velvet pouf. Bliss.

Friday finds Saturn and the Sun on the phone, wondering if they diluted Chiron 1/1,000,000,000,000, would he still be as irritating.

On Saturday Jupiter turns around and his big arse blocks Pluto’s view. This one will last for a while.

*

Aries

Over the last few weeks you’ve attacked the roast beast of life with gusto and sucked on the bones.  A Friday desire for change finds you making lentil and chickpea curry. This leads to an enormous attack of wind and a weekend rethink.

Taurus

At the beginning of next week your work colleagues will daub their naked, pallid torsos with ultramarine lightning bolts and hunt you, whooping, with a copy of Mao’s Little Red Book and a honey spoon. Spend this week practising running and hiding, and make a firm decision about which tactic works best for you.

Cancer

This week you find comfort in the extraordinary qualities of ordinary tasks. Just what is it about roasting a chicken that makes you an alchemist? Probably the beard and the long cloak.

Gemini

Right, listen up Fool. We’ll go through it once more: the pellet with the poison’s in the vessel with the pestle; the chalice from the palace has the brew that is true. But they broke the chalice from the palace and replaced it with a flagon with a dragon. Which has the pellet with the poison, and the vessel with the pestle has the brew that is true. Get it? Got it. Good.

Leo

How are you doing for mugs? On Thursday George Harrison, Steve Harley, Nina Simone, Sheryl Crowe, Bon Jovi, and Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds turn up for a cuppa. They bring iced fingers. How cool is that? Mind you shut the door quick before Coldplay arrive.

Virgo

Mrs Qin’s father never thought she’d amount to much; he told her so and treated her quite foully. Mrs Qin’s response was to build, own and run West Lake, the largest Chinese restaurant in the world and the results of Mrs Qin’s bloody hard work and attention to detail. Now she supports her father and the rest of her family.

How have the last couple of years treated you, Virgo? If, like Mrs Qin, you’ve responded to ne’er sayers by serving live fried fish and learning to kill a duck by sticking a chopstick in its breast then hooking out its heart with your finger, it’ll soon be time to enjoy more beneficent times. If you’ve tended to believe stupid people when they’ve told you you’re rubbish, and acted accordingly small, it’ll be more of a chippy tea. Still nice, just not in the Guinness Book of Records.

Libra

This week you play at being your own boss. It’s such a good fit that by Wednesday it’s no longer a game. This is long-term, so settle down and make yourself comfy. Friday is perfect for ordering a couple of tasteful bamboo in-trays from John Lewis. Being organised and authoratative doesn’t have to involve beige walls and grey plastic. Phew.

Scorpio

I don’t understand it either: you can pull coins out of your ears, foam balls from your mouth, hankies from your nose, and the flags of all nations out of your bottom. You always know which card they picked and which cup hides the lady. You can tie magic knots in rope with your left hand, while your right makes a wristwatch vanish in a silk square. You definitely have nothing up your sleeve. Still they don’t hire you for children’s parties. Do you think it could be the gibbering homunculus that reeks of the grave that you pull out of the hat? Yeah, that bit could use work.

Sagittarius

Typical. Just as your membership of the hellfire club is finally approved Health and Safety arrive and demand a full risk assessment. Is nobody any fun anymore?

Capricorn

Do stop worrying about That Thing. It’s just a thing; you won’t change it by worrying. After midweek your skin improves. So there’s that.

Aquarius

This week your attempts to put things right make people step away from you. The eyebrow-raising and whispering that result brings unlikely groups of people together, so, in a way, it sort-of works. Sort of. On Friday someone loves you anyway.

Pisces

After Tuesday, and for a while, there’s no one needs making better. No cuts to dab or boo boos to kiss.  Even your thigh feels better. Boring, isn’t it.

*

P1230574
*

Sun Sign Horoscopage 12th–18th July 2010

A bit sad that she’s lost the phenomenal pheromonal boobies of Sunday, Monday’s Moon pops across to the Leo house to borrow Mercury’s laptop. She cheers herself up by ordering extravagant bouquets and choccies for all.

Tuesday finds Venus and Jupiter trying to feed the other the last strawberry cream. Venus wins, Jupiter swallows (isn’t it usually the other way round?). Later, the goddess of beauty and grace is made up when Pluto silently reaches up to offer her the untouched bottom layer of his box of Black Magic.

Apart from the munching noises, all is quiet until the weekend, when restless Mercury decides to wind Saturn up by chucking his wrappers over the wall into the Virgo garden.

*

Aries

Monday finds you wearing disturbing amounts of cubic zirconia, making angular movements with your hands and elbows, and boasting about something you call your bitches. Tuesday is more forgiving than you deserve.

Taurus

Hey, sexy. What are you doing later?

Gemini

Change seems impossible, staying the same feels intolerable. Which to choose? Listen carefulchangely, the smartarse Universe is sending you the anschangewer subliminally.

Cancer

No, you don’t want what they’re having.

Leo

You know, a title would be nice, wouldn’t it. You could really carry a title. Watch your appetites on Tuesday, unless you want your title to be Empress of Blandings.

Virgo

I have part of a poem in my head. A lovely thing. It was for you this week, Virgo. It’s not my poem, it’s one I’ve stashed away a few words of in that gap between my ears. It’s either by Grace Nichols or someone who was in an anthology with Grace Nichols. Dust has a right to settle, it goes, Milk has the right to turn green. Scum and fungi are rich words. Perhaps not all of those words, and certainly not in that order. Can I find this on my shelves? Does Google turn it up? It was for you this week, but it seems to have stopped existing. Did you tidy it away? Lock it soundly in a box with the other evils of the world?

Libra

What you call ‘encouraging others to get along’ those others would call ‘a hostage situation’.

Scorpio

This week you’re not scary. Does that scare you?

Sagittarius

Mike From Accounts’ stag doo lap dance outing finally reveals to your day colleagues just what you do for a second job. You’ll feel much better with it off your chest. Which makes the tips brilliant.

Capricorn

This week, you have a Che Guevara t-shirt and you’re not afraid to use it. I’m amazed. Are you feeling okay?

Aquarius

Whinge at your partner this week and they’ll nag right back. Yes, they’ve confiscated your purse, but what you want to spend on knickers and jollies is needed to pay your fines.

Pisces

Some people can’t be bought. This week, however, they will be yours for the price of a mint choc chip Cornetto.

*

P1210032


RSS Distracted Astrologer

Archives

also here:


and here:

del.icio.us

The filing imp

Copyright © 2009 2010 Distracted Astrologer – All Rights Reserved

distractedastrologeratgmaildotcom
wordpress stats