H O R O S C O P E S by David Llewellyn
ARIES (Mar 21 - Apr 20)
"It's the liberal elite and the PC do-gooders, see?" Says your brother-in-law, shaking his head with disgust, "They're taking away Christmas. In another two or three years there won't be any such thing as Christmas. Oh, we'll be celebrating Hanukah, and Diwali, and Eid and what have you, but not Christmas. Did you know, the word Christmas is now illegal in this country? They're not allowed to say it on television, and 'A Christmas Carol' isn't called 'A Christmas Carol' any more, it's called 'A Holiday Adventure'. Did you know that? It's political correctness gone mad."
You nod noncommittally, as the queue to see Father Christmas in the Arndale Centre's Christmas Fantasia shuffles forward another few inches. The shopping centre is filled with Christmas decorations, several Nativity scenes, and a soundtrack of Christmas songs.
TAURUS (Apr 21 - May 21)
Taurus, Taurus, Taurus. Are you filled with festive cheer or, as usual, a sense of impending doom? Fret not about the things that are beyond your control; such as venereal disease, war, or the gaping existential chasm that is your life. Focus instead on the things you can change, such as your underwear, or gender.
GEMINI (May 22 - June 22)
The boss is always belly-aching about targets and forecasts, isn't he? Do yourself a favour, Gemini, and kill him with a fork. You might do a little time for it, and the sight of his wife's smudged mascara in court will haunt you for the rest of your days, but it'll put an end to that incessant yapping of his, and that's what matters.
CANCER (June 23 - July 23)
"Oh my God, it's Dermot O'Leary." Says Kelly as you walk out of HMV, both laden with shopping bags.
"No it's not." You reply.
"It so is." Says Kelly, pointing again.
"It's isn't."
"Oh come off it. I'd recognise him anywhere." Says Kelly.
"Dermot O'Leary isn't black." You tell her.
LEO (July 24 - Aug 23)
You are weak.
VIRGO (Aug 24 - Sep 23)
"The Vicar Of Dibley?" You say. "The Vicar Of Dibley?"
You wrap the rubber hose tourniquet around your arm and tap your wrist until you find a vein that hasn't collapsed.
LIBRA (Sep 24 - Oct 23)
The office Christmas party has been an institution in this country since the Norman Conquest. Yvonne has brought in her kids' karaoke machine, and although people are a little reluctant at first it's a roaring success once the first few boxes of wine have been drained. Recently divorced Colin from Marketing takes to the makeshift stage and offers a tuneless rendition of 'Crying' by Roy Orbison. It starts as mildly amusing, but builds to a climax that is incredibly poignant and moving. He leaves immediately afterwards without saying another word to anyone.
SCORPIO (Oct 24 - Nov 22)
It's an awkward Christmas this year, when your brother and sister-in-law hold you directly responsible for convincing their children that Santa "does things to them" while they are sleeping. Bad things.
SAGITTARIUS (Nov 23 - Dec 21)
It's that time of year when families get together, and forget about their petty squabbles. Siblings that haven't spoken for months, maybe even years, are reunited. Estranged lovers get back together, and prodigal sons and daughters return to the nest to make amends. Not you, though Sagittarius. This year, while your family gathers around the fire swapping gifts, you will be dangling from a harness in a Berlin dungeon, lubed up, and off your face on poppers to a soundtrack of pounding, dirty techno.
CAPRICORN (Dec 22 - Jan 20)
Your daughter's Nativity Play is everything you hoped it would be; sweet, a little bit clumsy, but very touching. The only real bone of contention is the decision by Josh Bentley (aged 7) to model his King Herod on Dennis Hopper in 'Blue Velvet'. Several parents walk out in disgust after the scene in which Herod inhales nitrus oxide and howls, "Baby wants to f***", and questions will be asked at the next governors' meeting.
AQUARIUS (Jan 21 - Feb 19)
"Is it Santa? Is it Santa?" Your children cry, excitedly. They've heard the crashing sound from the kitchen too, but unlike you they are excited by the prospect of a night-time visitor. You swing your legs out from under the duvet and tiptoe across the landing.
Another crashing sound from the kitchen. Your heart begins to race.
You find your old cricket bat in the landing cupboard, underneath the spare blankets, and silently creep down the stairs, telling the children to stay in your bedroom with their Mum. As you edge your way closer to the kitchen you turn on the lights, terrified of what you might see, and discover troubled singing sensation Amy Winehouse going through your bins.
"Out! Out!" You say, nudging her with the rounded end of the bat. She hisses at you and claws at thin air before scurrying out through the cat-flap and vanishing into the night.
PISCES (Feb 20 -Mar 20)
"I hate fat people," You say, pouring brandy sauce over your helping of Christmas pudding, "The way they wheeze and sweat after a fifty yard walk, and the way they go on and on about it being their glands. And they all look really unhappy, too, with their squishy little eyes and their mouths that go down in the corners because all that fat in their cheeks means it's really hard for them to smile and gravity makes them look miserable. 'It's a disease, it's a disease' they say, as if it was some sort of genetic disorder. Funny how there's no really, really fat people in Africa, isn't it? That disease must have skipped right past Africa and marched all the way to Scotland. I f***ing hate fat people."
"Okay, I think that's enough for now," Says your father, before turning to your brother's new wife, Sue, a diabetic who weighs in excess of 23 stone.
"I'm very sorry, Sue." He says, with a soulful look, "Would you care for more parsnips?"
ARIES (Mar 21 - Apr 20)
"It's the liberal elite and the PC do-gooders, see?" Says your brother-in-law, shaking his head with disgust, "They're taking away Christmas. In another two or three years there won't be any such thing as Christmas. Oh, we'll be celebrating Hanukah, and Diwali, and Eid and what have you, but not Christmas. Did you know, the word Christmas is now illegal in this country? They're not allowed to say it on television, and 'A Christmas Carol' isn't called 'A Christmas Carol' any more, it's called 'A Holiday Adventure'. Did you know that? It's political correctness gone mad."
You nod noncommittally, as the queue to see Father Christmas in the Arndale Centre's Christmas Fantasia shuffles forward another few inches. The shopping centre is filled with Christmas decorations, several Nativity scenes, and a soundtrack of Christmas songs.
TAURUS (Apr 21 - May 21)
Taurus, Taurus, Taurus. Are you filled with festive cheer or, as usual, a sense of impending doom? Fret not about the things that are beyond your control; such as venereal disease, war, or the gaping existential chasm that is your life. Focus instead on the things you can change, such as your underwear, or gender.
GEMINI (May 22 - June 22)
The boss is always belly-aching about targets and forecasts, isn't he? Do yourself a favour, Gemini, and kill him with a fork. You might do a little time for it, and the sight of his wife's smudged mascara in court will haunt you for the rest of your days, but it'll put an end to that incessant yapping of his, and that's what matters.
CANCER (June 23 - July 23)
"Oh my God, it's Dermot O'Leary." Says Kelly as you walk out of HMV, both laden with shopping bags.
"No it's not." You reply.
"It so is." Says Kelly, pointing again.
"It's isn't."
"Oh come off it. I'd recognise him anywhere." Says Kelly.
"Dermot O'Leary isn't black." You tell her.
LEO (July 24 - Aug 23)
You are weak.
VIRGO (Aug 24 - Sep 23)
"The Vicar Of Dibley?" You say. "The Vicar Of Dibley?"
You wrap the rubber hose tourniquet around your arm and tap your wrist until you find a vein that hasn't collapsed.
LIBRA (Sep 24 - Oct 23)
The office Christmas party has been an institution in this country since the Norman Conquest. Yvonne has brought in her kids' karaoke machine, and although people are a little reluctant at first it's a roaring success once the first few boxes of wine have been drained. Recently divorced Colin from Marketing takes to the makeshift stage and offers a tuneless rendition of 'Crying' by Roy Orbison. It starts as mildly amusing, but builds to a climax that is incredibly poignant and moving. He leaves immediately afterwards without saying another word to anyone.
SCORPIO (Oct 24 - Nov 22)
It's an awkward Christmas this year, when your brother and sister-in-law hold you directly responsible for convincing their children that Santa "does things to them" while they are sleeping. Bad things.
SAGITTARIUS (Nov 23 - Dec 21)
It's that time of year when families get together, and forget about their petty squabbles. Siblings that haven't spoken for months, maybe even years, are reunited. Estranged lovers get back together, and prodigal sons and daughters return to the nest to make amends. Not you, though Sagittarius. This year, while your family gathers around the fire swapping gifts, you will be dangling from a harness in a Berlin dungeon, lubed up, and off your face on poppers to a soundtrack of pounding, dirty techno.
CAPRICORN (Dec 22 - Jan 20)
Your daughter's Nativity Play is everything you hoped it would be; sweet, a little bit clumsy, but very touching. The only real bone of contention is the decision by Josh Bentley (aged 7) to model his King Herod on Dennis Hopper in 'Blue Velvet'. Several parents walk out in disgust after the scene in which Herod inhales nitrus oxide and howls, "Baby wants to f***", and questions will be asked at the next governors' meeting.
AQUARIUS (Jan 21 - Feb 19)
"Is it Santa? Is it Santa?" Your children cry, excitedly. They've heard the crashing sound from the kitchen too, but unlike you they are excited by the prospect of a night-time visitor. You swing your legs out from under the duvet and tiptoe across the landing.
Another crashing sound from the kitchen. Your heart begins to race.
You find your old cricket bat in the landing cupboard, underneath the spare blankets, and silently creep down the stairs, telling the children to stay in your bedroom with their Mum. As you edge your way closer to the kitchen you turn on the lights, terrified of what you might see, and discover troubled singing sensation Amy Winehouse going through your bins.
"Out! Out!" You say, nudging her with the rounded end of the bat. She hisses at you and claws at thin air before scurrying out through the cat-flap and vanishing into the night.
PISCES (Feb 20 -Mar 20)
"I hate fat people," You say, pouring brandy sauce over your helping of Christmas pudding, "The way they wheeze and sweat after a fifty yard walk, and the way they go on and on about it being their glands. And they all look really unhappy, too, with their squishy little eyes and their mouths that go down in the corners because all that fat in their cheeks means it's really hard for them to smile and gravity makes them look miserable. 'It's a disease, it's a disease' they say, as if it was some sort of genetic disorder. Funny how there's no really, really fat people in Africa, isn't it? That disease must have skipped right past Africa and marched all the way to Scotland. I f***ing hate fat people."
"Okay, I think that's enough for now," Says your father, before turning to your brother's new wife, Sue, a diabetic who weighs in excess of 23 stone.
"I'm very sorry, Sue." He says, with a soulful look, "Would you care for more parsnips?"
VIEW 15 of 15 COMMENTS
narshada:
Well I only read Saggitarius because that's mine but it made me chuckle. Good to meet you dude!
narshada:
I got it done at Holey Skin on Bath Rd in Bristol. The guy there is really good and gives good advice about your tat.