Asperitus Casting Runes...
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- Tally ho and yoicks, little things of the sex organs! It seems I must awake from my dream of anaesthesia to the nightmare of real life in order to address you once again, insectoid travesties. And so I do! So these are the vile and bitter prognostications for awkward April and I am Asperitus, oracle of bitter truth.
Last month, your lover had turned against you and become your captor as you fought poor health to write a masterful tract that would turn the masses away from the deity. We left you bound and waiting uncertainly, though trying, of course, to keep your legendary composure in the face of that which awaits you, bitter revenge! Mischievous Mercury ambles through leaden Taurus and your captor teases and torments you with words. Nothing you haven’t shucked off a thousand times before!
But then vamping Venus moves into nitwit Gemini and your solar eighth house and the sexual shenanigans begin, such doings as it would be improper for me to describe. Suffice it to say there are realms of torturous pleasure even you have not discovered until now.
But what’s this, insectoid specimens? An odious Full Moon comes in Libra as marauding Mars clashes with jolly Jupiter and implements of terrible yet piquant torment bring your failing health to the point of ruin. Vamping Venus in Gemini clashes with idiot Uranus and your captor invites some fellow tourists to visit the house of torture as though it’s a tourist attraction and, of course, to add to your exquisite pain, especially by speaking Swedish and humming Abba tunes as they poke your private parts.
As cranky Chiron clashes with the great Sol Invicti and mischievous Mercury, the stream of visitors becomes a tide and an exorbitant entrance fee is being charged, a scheme of which you yourself would approve if you were conscious and not bleeding quite so much.
Come the New Moon and a solar eclipse in idiot Aries, you fall into a swoon. Your grip on life’s threads is tenuous to say the least. Spirits hover at your head and a tunnel of light opens before you! By my little brown bottle! Is death about to come to the ruler of death’s kingdom? Balanced on a knife edge is this parlous situation until the great Sol Invicti enters leaden Taurus and your solar seventh house. You struggle into wakefulness only to find your captor ministers to you and tends your wounds.
Is there to be blessed relief at last? No, not at all! As marauding Mars and vamping Venus clash with underworld Pluto, it seems you are revived only so the whole gruesome process can begin again. Ah well, we leave you there for now. Will you live till my next forecast? Click here and see! Ta! Ta!
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