Sun Sign Horoscopage 15th–21st February 2010

Venus and Mercury start the week by snapping the wing mirror off Pluto’s hearse and running off, giggling. They drop the mirror in the grass, where Mars picks it up and wipes it off. He and Saturn take turns using it to see where they are going. They’ve both been walking backwards for so long.

Wednesday. Oh Wednesday. The Moon hears that there might be rumblings, so slips into the empty Aries house to hide. Venus shakes Jupiter awake, to get a little help hiding all the sharp implements and taping cushions onto every hard surface. Mercury takes bets.

Then it happens. Sleep-addled, Neptune and Chiron reach for the same teaspoon while making the morning brew. They turn and stare into the other’s face, inches apart. They circle slowly, sniff each other’s bottom, and slowly wag their tails. Mercury hides in the cupboard from Uranus, who wants his winnings to spend on a new chemistry set.

The Sun drops a tab on Thursday, and it all gets a bit hazy. Spotting the nicked wing mirror on Sunday, he glares into it, and dazzled Mars falls onto his bum.


Can I persuade youtube videos to embed in this post? I can not. All links are worksafe.



Congratulations! This week your fellow members of the Daniel O’Donnell fanclub choose you for the annual Meet The Man. They strip you, smear you with Nuttella, stake you outside his cave, and run like hell. Then there are kisses! With tongues! To some a dream — as Merlin says in that eighties-riffic Arthur extravaganza, Excalibur — to others, a nightmare.


Please don’t blag. Be honest about feeling worried that you’ve cocked something up; it’ll work in your favour this week. Other weeks it might not. Then blag. I’ll tell you when.


Walk softly, walk far, and carry a camera.


This week you and the Universal All embrace in ecstatic union by listening to the small voice of your higher self and responding with the softness of your soul. Or dogging.


To get the treat, pussycats, first you have to cough up the mouse:

Leo system security warning: should you find yourself suspecting me of manipulating next week’s stars just to pimp a video of a talking cat, please check your chart for Scorpio. (Mouse.)


I love Virgo, and hate to typecast, but do try not to worry midweek. It’s a bit new, a bit different, and it might hurt a little a first, but longterm things will be the better for it.


A screech of brakes and shouting sounds make you wince midweek. Think next time before stopping in the middle of the road to wave to your friend. The sounds of people losing their no claims bonus are not aesthetically pleasing.

This week’s Libra stars have been brought to you by the Institute of 70s Public Information Films. And by the letter eff.


Bucolic is not an illness, but it certainly sounds like a wasting disease. Put those dreams of retiring to the country to one side for a bit, there’s far too much fun to be had here in the middle of this muddle of the rest of us.


You are not Jesus. That is a bed sheet, and those are Crocs. Stop it, no, come back. You’ll sink.


Does being the change you wish to see in the world mean dressing up as a five pound note? That’s for you to decide.


I was procrastinating on Facebook when I should have been writing your stars for this week, Aquarius, and an exquisitely talented Scorpio writer friend’s status update reminded me researching your stars for this week, and discovered that Lawrence Krauss has already written it:

Every atom in your body came from a star that exploded. And the atoms in your left hand probably came from a different star than your right hand. It really is the most poetic thing I know about physics.

Remember you are stardust.


Remember that time in 16th Century London, when your accidental stumble pushed a woman out of the path of a pottyload of pee and poo being chucked into the street from an upstairs window? No? Well, someone does, as this week sends you a karmachanic so instantly, you might not even realise there’s been a breakdown. Worth a few five hundred year-old smelly splashes on your jerkin, that.


Sun Sign Horoscopage 15th–21st February 2010

7 Responses to “Sun Sign Horoscopage 15th–21st February 2010”

  1. 1 JackieR February 14, 2010 at 8:55 pm

    My camera is at the ready. Will shake the dust out of my walking shoes before morning.

  2. 2 Linda February 14, 2010 at 11:41 pm

    Not happy with the pee and poo while I train a new puppy……thank a lot.

    • 3 distractedastrologer February 15, 2010 at 12:30 am

      Not to worry, Linda. The pee and poo is five hundred years ago and either metaphorical or reliant on a belief system which includes previous lives. And jerkins.

      Mind you, puppies are masters of chaos. I’m very jealous, by the way – could you give the puppy a scrumble from me?

      • 4 aello February 15, 2010 at 1:10 am

        This a weird bit of synchronicity for Pisces-rising me. Despite being a committed cat person, puppies have been strangely attracted to me recently. Without desperate pleas and yanking leads from their owners my yard would be full of baby canines.

        Love your style DA and I look forward to meeting the karmachanic.

  3. 5 distractedastrologer February 15, 2010 at 3:01 pm

    Hello aello, thanks for popping along. Re canines: have you tried taking the sausages out of your pockets?

  4. 6 jen foo February 16, 2010 at 1:33 am

    i love you, distracted astrologer. even if i can’t go milk cows.

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