My kind of girl!

Bryony Shaw busts her butt to get a medal and during her post race interview (in floods of euphoric tears) she says: "It was such a hard race and I had such a hard week. It's the best thing in the world. I love my mum and dad so much, they are so supportive. And my boyfriend Greg. My coach Tom is such a legend. I am so f***ing happy."

I'm not one for superfluous obscenities but I do love and appreciate passion! Until yesterday I didn't even know who Bryony Shaw was but today, she's my hero!

(On the side, isn't it amazing--and quite indicative of today's culture--that we seem to have completely forgotten about the plight of the Dalai Lama?)

In honour of girls who swear, here's a very special joke, Mars cj Mercury with a Pluto transit in the 6th. If you're offended by swearing, then come back in a couple of days. . .

A lonely woman buys a parrot from a pet shop to keep her company. She puts the bird in its cage and converses with it daily in the hope it will hold up its end of the conversation. The bird doesn't speak. Although disappointed, the woman keeps trying.

One day, her old friend, a priest, stops to visit. The woman welcomes the priest in her home and introduces him to her parrot. The parrot takes one look at the priest and says "You goddamned, mother-fucking son of a bitch!"

Horrified, the woman takes the bird back to the pet shop and complains.

"I've had this bird for months!" she wails "And it never speaks. I have my first visitor--my old friend the priest--and it swears!"

"Relax," says the pet shop owner. "It happens all the time. You see, men always catch parrots. They throw jackets over the birds' head; maybe even give it a few taps to keep it quiet. So you see why the bird swears at men?"

"Yes but what can I do?"

"That's easy," said the shop owner. "You got to punish it. The next time it swears, reach inside the cage, grab a hold of its legs and swing it over your head. Cures the swearing."

Doubtful, the woman returns home. And the bird still doesn't speak. Months pass. Then her old friend, the priest, stops by. The parrot takes one look at the priest and says: "You goddamned, mother-fucking son of a bitch!" The woman reaches inside the cage, grabs a hold of the bird--just like the pet shop owner says--and swings it over her head.

The parrot says: "WooooooooooooWeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!! Feel the fucking breeze!"

On the Rez!

It was so good to finally be home on Saugeen Indian Reservation in Southampton Ontario! I stayed with my Aunt Liz and her husband Burt in their beautiful home near the shores of Sauble Beach (which my grandfather managed to acquire from the Canadian government). Left is a photo of my daughter and I playing on the beach. The water was a little choppy that day but we could still venture quite far before feeling battered by the waves. We had started the day with a swim, had a big breakfast (lasagne! woohoo!), then made ourselves wait a bit before heading back to the beach, where we stayed for the rest of the day.

Later that evening we had a fabulous meal with my cousin Angie. She made the delectable Indian Corn Soup which, to an Ojibwa, is better than Mother's milk. So good in fact that I asked my own mother to take a photo of me digging in! Note the delirious expression of extreme pleasure! What is Indian Corn Soup I hear you ask? It's made from corn that's been soaked in lye (yes LYE) so it pops. Then it's rinsed and rinsed and rinsed then rinsed some more. Then some special Ojibwa magic is added so it becomes this gorgeous soup. It had been a long time since I had Corn Soup (so good it deserves capital letters) but I hereby declare my cousin Angie to be the best cook in the world! To celebrate my cousin's devotion to Ojibwa cuisine, here's another special Ojibwa joke that can only be Mars in Taurus in the 2nd!

Two Ojibwas go to a hot food stand and order two hotdogs. As they walk away, one says to the other: "Which part of the dog did you get?"

Helen Clark: Oopsie

The Metro has reported that Helen Clark, former MP of Petersborough, was filmed ranting and raving whilst seemingly blind drunk.

Oopsie.

We’re used to young people acting like fools on too much of the brew but to have an adult in a position of responsibility ranting like an idiot? It’s embarrassing enough for a normal person (and I use that term loosely) to be seen in such a state but to be a politician and to have it recorded on youtube seems to be most unfortunate.

So unfortunate that I couldn’t resist but have a little peek at her chart.

According to her Wikipedia entry, Helen Clark was born 23 December 1954 in Derby. A quick head calculation will tell you she’s going to have transit Pluto problems—and sure enough, with Pluto’s current position at 29 degrees, 30 minutes Sagittarius, the Lord of the Underworld does his stake in the heart routine all over her natal Sun/Mercury conjunction. Anything Helen hopes to be buried and forgotten is likely to resurrect its spiky little head at every embarrassing opportunity. If she goes through with her threat of suing youtube and Goddess-knows-who-else, it will only call attention to her shenanigans and cause more embarrassment. It’s enough to evoke images of Hercules and his battle with the deadly Hydra, a terrifying multi-headed beast.

In the myth, Hercules was assigned the task of killing the Hydra. His mentor advised him, “We rise by kneeling. We conquer by surrendering. We gain by giving up.” Hercules paid no mind and went in to fight the Hydra with sword a-blazing. Every time he cut off a head, it was replaced by three more heads, each one more vicious than its predecessor. Eventually, Hercules got the idea of what his mentor had advised him. Kneeling in its slime, Hercules raised the Hydra to where the sun shone in the cave and it withered and died. Where there’s Pluto, there’s treasure: after its death, the Hydra was replaced by a valuable jewel. And that’s the beauty of a Pluto transit. . .

Rather than calling more attention to this dreadful predicament, Helen should maybe face her demons and be seen to do something about it.

In honour of politicians, seemingly irredeemable situations and last second resurrections, here’s my Jupiter in 12th inconjunct Mars in 7th (with a Pluto transit) joke.

A man walks into a bar and orders a beer. The barman charges him 10 cents. Confused, but not complaining, the man pays.
After a while he decides to have another, and some food, so he orders another beer and a steak. The barman charges him 25 cents, 10 for the beer and 15 for the food. After finishing his food and drink, he calls the barman over and says, "Mate, that was the best steak I've ever had. I want to talk to the manager and thank him." "No problem," says the barman. "He's upstairs with my wife."

"What's he doing upstairs with your wife?" asks the man. "Probably the same thing I'm doing to his business down here!"