Sun Sign Horoscopage: 19th–25th April 2010

Hurry up please, says Saturn to the Sun on Monday morning, it’s time. Cursing himself for ever lending the oldun his Eliot, the Sun moves off at exactly the same speed as he would have done anyway (nyer), which puts him in just the right place on Tuesday morning to help Chiron stick a plaster on his hurty knee.

Smelling bacon through the open window, the Sun leaves the empty cupboards of Aries for the Taurus house, with its full fridge and Venus in charge of pans. He forgets to give Chiron his plasters back. The wounded centaur hobbles after the big ball of fire, making it as far as the large, soft sofa over at Pisces’. Oh, that feels lovely. He reckons on staying for a while.

It’s suspiciously quiet on Thursday. Apart from the Moon, who makes a youtube video of himself dancing to Single Ladies. Friday finds Venus trying to help Neptune remember what he’s forgotten. It’s on a list somewhere. He’s written it down. Where is it? What was it? Who are you? Eh? Is it time for Emmerdale? Venus gives up. Some gods just can’t be helped.

A brisk game of Uranian silly buggers quite cheers Venus up on Saturday, so much so she’s happy to listen to Saturn intone The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock.

(Despite what Chiron later implies, Venus’ move into Gemini and out of sight of Saturn on Sunday has nothing to do with the oldun hopefully producing his copy of Ulysses.)

Also on Sunday, Mercury forgets he hasn’t got eyes in the back of his head and stamps on the big toe of Mars. You know, I’m sure he did that the last time he walked backwards. Remember your idioms, Mercury, fool me twice … really, you have it coming.

Despite obvious differences in composition and potential for triple word score, the Sun and Pluto spend a happy Sunday afternoon playing Scrabble.



Have you enjoyed the past few weeks? I’m glad. Here’s a brush and dustpan.


Tuesday gives you a cake. With a cherry. Eat it before Sunday or you’ll have to share.


I watched Pontypool last night, a top zombie film for a Mercury retrograde. These zombies are infected by language. A word — said by another, that they understand — turns them into zombies, desperate to feed not just on the usual human flesh, but also human words. The cure is to randomly allocate new meanings to old words. Gosh, I thought of you, Gemini. Next week, cure yourself by finding a word that keeps you poorly and giving it a new meaning. Kill means kiss; guilt means wicker; heavy means beetroot; worry means glitter. Your turn.


It’s water signs together this week. Could you pop down to Pisces, please? Right down, under Leo and keep on going. Ta.


At the weekend, someone spills Ribena down your Barry White suit. It was nice while it lasted.


Kicking the traces will ladder your tights. For once, don’t let this stop you.


Carry a bottle for collecting peace this week, Libra. Fill it as and when you can. Keep it safe: for the next few weeks put a drop under your tongue as required.


Hello Scorpio, would you mind keeping company with Cancer, and popping down a bit to Pisces, please? Thank you.


The story of how 7,500 people sold their souls to GameStation is doing the rounds. I admit to feeling a little uneasy about it, and relieved that the site revoked its right for future soul claim. I know it’s daft, but if there are souls, and if words are power … Please Sagittarius, check those terms and conditions, and this week don’t give away anything if it makes you feel uncomfortable.


Beware small children walking backwards. The weekend is yours. I was going to ask you not to use your superpowers for personal gain. Yeah, right.


It’s a week of half-rhymes. Aquarius. Bah various. A fairy hearse. Hilarious. Unqueried bus. A lary verse. My hairy arse … Your turn.

Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces

Okay, water signs – Cancer and Scorpio, glad you’ve made it down to Pisces, thanks for waiting – I’ve gathered you together to have a talk about The Elephant in the Room. For something ignored and unspoken, there’s been a lot of talk about it recently. Politicians, political commentators, Outnumbered on BBC1: for the past week or so, wherever there’s a room, there’s a big grey thing stood flapping its ears and looking hopefully for currant buns. As a water sign, I’m not surprised. The synchronicity that correlates the grand As Above cosmic dance with the mundane Down Below political stitch-ups, personal twitchings and psychological itches is wearing its Here Be Heffalumps t-shirt. The elephant quietly being ignored in the living-room of each of us is raising its trunk to join with the herd in one hell of a trumpet call that stuffing your ears with any amount of cheese will not block out.

You are going to stop ignoring the elephant in your room.

You don’t have to get rid of the elephant, in fact you can’t: push as hard as you are able and still the elephant will only budge if it wants to. You don’t even have to talk to it if you don’t want to — although elephants do like a bit of a natter — simply stop ignoring it. Take the lampshade off its head, the tablecloth from its back, and acknowledge that it is an elephant and it is in your room.

This will not be a quick thing for any of you, don’t worry, you have several years. The time is perfect right now for having a think about just how the elephant came to be in your room in the first place. You can only begin to work out an effective elephant management strategy when you understand what put it there to begin with. Later, you can find out its name. Oh, and practise your best trunk-shaking manners. And stock up on peanuts.

Elephant in the Room 101, by water sign:

Cancer, I believe you could be the most overlooked sign of the zodiac. I think you’ve done it on purpose; it helps you achieve your objectives while limiting confrontation. However, ducking inside your shell will not make this elephant go away. Stick your neck out. Your elephant does not want to hurt you or nick your iPod. It eventually needs to be acknowledged as part of your clan, your family.

Scorpio, how good you are at pointing out the elephants in everyone else’s room. Look, there’s one! And another! Wow, see the ears on that one there! Meanwhile, you think you’ve safely, secretly sunk your elephant down to the bottom of the garden pond. You are going to learn three things about sinking an elephant: 1) It’s hard to weight it down when it has no pockets to fill with rocks 2) It uses its trunk as a snorkel 3) elephants can swim.

Pisces, you might find the elephant sitting on your head. It could be pink.


Sun Sign Horoscopage: 19th–25th April 2010


9 Responses to “Sun Sign Horoscopage: 19th–25th April 2010”

  1. 1 Kristina April 18, 2010 at 10:43 pm

    Hello my dear! Although Baby Sag can’t read yet, I’ve got her covered and won’t let her sign anything without checking the fine print 🙂 As for me, I’m afraid. Are you sure I can’t scuttle away crab-like for another eek?

    • 2 distractedastrologer April 20, 2010 at 4:41 pm

      Nope. You, Kris, can befriend a giant herd of elephants and thereby take over the world.

      And as for the baby viking, I think she might be too busy collecting hearts to sign away her soul. Bub Saggies get a pass.

  2. 3 Morvah April 19, 2010 at 4:32 pm

    Brush and DUSTPAN??!! Awwwh, Muuuum…
    How much will you pay me?

  3. 5 Rosario April 20, 2010 at 5:56 pm

    “Carry a bottle for collecting peace this week, Libra. Fill it as and when you can. Keep it safe: for the next few weeks put a drop under your tongue as required.”
    Thanks for the advice Net..just looking for a couple of bottles in case i must share know Libra….:)

    • 6 distractedastrologer April 20, 2010 at 8:00 pm

      Good plan Rosario, you don’t want to have to share your bottle and worry whether they will be offended if you wipe it before taking your next drop. I wish you an elegant sufficiency of discovered peace to fill them.

  1. 1 Chiron in Pisces » » Astrology Around The Web Trackback on April 21, 2010 at 9:52 am

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