The wife was out last night, leaving me to my own devices. When home alone, one of my favourite pastimes (after ‘xhamster’) is a leisurely sit in the khazi. In I went, coffee in one hand, my latest library book in the other, and settled down.
To my chagrin however, I realised two pages in that I’d already read the bastard. Looking around desperately for distraction, my eyes settled on a magazine left by the missus, one of those wimminz things you see at the side of the supermarket checkout, full of riveting reads such as ‘our ten best eyelash tips’, ‘I lost twelve stone in a month’, and ‘dealing with hot flushes’.
Needless to say, I ran through this pretty sharpish, and soon got to the back page, and the fucking horoscopes. Now I’ve always regarded astrology as a steaming pile of cack for the feeble minded, but… let’s face it, you can’t resist reading horoscopes anyway.
So I had a look at mine, and I must say that I found it to be incredibly precise and accurate in my case, as I’m sure did many millions of other Sagittarians;
‘an arrangement or association could come full circle with the full moon on the 17th, when nostalgia swells, but practicality rules’.
Well I was proper shaken up by the revelations contained therein I can tell you. Intrigued, I took a look at the wife’s horoscope, only to be even more amazed;
‘you’re concerned that you might be doing something you’d advise others not to do. You’re counting chickens before they hatch. Yet you’re being pragmatic; you’re anticipating metaphorical hens and providing them with a safe space’. Erm, right…
Of course, if you want a REALLY detailed reading, you need to phone in. Weekly readings last 5 min, monthly 8 min, year ahead 13 min, all for a mere 80p a minute. The old saying goes ‘a fool and his money are soon parted’, and the gullible must rush to confirm this as the racket keeps going. The truth lay in the smallest of small print, which read (get your magnifying glass out) ‘readings are for entertainment purposes only’. Oh dear. Could this possibly mean my horoscope wasn’t worth the fucking paper it was printed on? What a swizz.
Nominated by Ron Knee