Alex Trenoweth Meets William Lilly

Oh my God!!

I thought it was great to meet Rob Hand, I though it was great to meet Desmond Tutu. But they were left in the shade when William Lilly came to the Lodge to see what we were up to! He was much shorter than I thought he would be. . .

All right, I'll admit it, it's just me being clever (pffft) with photoshop now that I'm the new acting editor for the Astrology Quarterly.

We were treated to a lovely evening with Deb Houlding who not only looks better than William, she undoubtedly smelled better than William would have. I even suspect she's smarter than William but perhaps that's a sacrilege. Deb is the webmaster of Skyscript and if you haven't been for a visit, I suggest you make it your mission sooner rather than later because no astrological education is complete without it. Deb took us through the finer points of "Christian Astrology" and the intricacies are both numerous and amazing. (And left is a photo of me and the lovely Deb.)

Here are a couple of William Lilly quotes:

"After my mistress was dead, I lived most comfortably, my master having a great affection for me. "

"I believe God rules all by his divine providence and that the stars by his permission are instruments."

In honour of resurrection, here are a few eighth house/William Lilly jokes. OK, they're more like 8th house jokes:

When Mozart was exhumed, he was found frantically rubbing out his music. Startled, the observers asked: "

Herr Mozart,what are you doing?"

He answered, "Why, I'm decomposing!"

_____________

First guy proudly: "My wife's an angel!"

Second guy: "You're lucky, mine's still alive."

____________

The difference between sex and death is, death you can do alone and nobody laughs at you.

(left is William's (get used to it--we're on a first name basis) monument at Waltham-on-Thames Church. The Lodge visits every summer at the end of July)

The Alchemical Journey

On Monday the 19th of January, we at the Lodge took an alchemical journey with John Wadsworth. Personally, I had only seen John as the great scholar (we did the MA in Cultural Astronomy and Astrology together), never as John the amazing actor. So I was as surprised as anyone to see John leaping about from star sign to star sign, revealing aspects in each that I had never noticed before. He even made me jump out of my skin when he burst out as Aries. Although many of us in the audience were aching to join him, we are very much an organisation that likes to keep the collective bottoms on the seats. We seem to like the speaker at the front of the room, behind the podium and referring to the screen. How wonderful it was to have a break from that.

Oh and John Wadsworth has holes in his socks. I didn't quite get the photographic evidence but take it from me: John's socks are well and truly ecclesiastic and sanctified (they're HOLY,geddit?) but at least he had the guts to take his shoes off in the first place. Don't worry, we're learning to embrace barefoot astrology.

In honour of John's religious socks, I have a very special Saturn in 12th house joke just for him:

A young couple decided to wed. As the big day approached, they grew apprehensive. Each had a problem they had never before shared with anyone, not even each other.

The Groom-to-be, overcoming his fear, decided to ask his father for advice.

“Father,” he said, “I am deeply concerned about the success of my marriage. I love my fiancée, very much, but you see, I have very smelly feet, and I’m afraid that my future wife will be put off by them.”

“No problem,” said dad, “all you have to do is wash your feet as often as possible, and always wear socks, even to bed.”

Well, to him this seemed a workable solution.

The bride-to-be, overcoming her fear, decided to take her problem up her mom.

“Mom,” she said, “When I wake up in the morning my breath is truly awful.”

“Honey,” her mother consoled, “everyone has bad breath in the morning.”

“No, you don’t understand. My morning breath is so bad, I’m afraid that my new husband will not want to sleep in the same room with me.”

Her mother said simply, “Try this: in the morning, get straight out of bed, and head for the bathroom and brush your teeth. The key is, not to say a word until you’ve brushed your teeth. Not a word,” her mother affirmed.

Well, she thought it was certainly worth a try. The loving couple were finally married in a beautiful ceremony. Not forgetting the advice each had received, he with his perpetual socks and she with her morning silence, they managed quite well. That is, until about six months later. Shortly before dawn, the husband wakes with a start to find that one of his socks had come off. Fearful of the consequences, he frantically searches the bed.

This, of course, woke his bride and without thinking, she immediately asks, “What on earth are you doing?”

“Oh, no!” he gasped in shock, “You’ve swallowed my sock!”

Happy Perihelion (a bit late!)

Pardon the delay in blogging-my school had a few "vistors" and this effectively put my entire life on hold. When I returned to what some people may consider a normal life, the batteries of my mobile, digital camera, i-paq and i-pod were completely flat. So that's how busy I was!

I intend to make up to all (a-hem) my faithful readers and other kind people who I'm slowly discovering have been linking to this blog (leave some messages, eh?) by including in this blog a poem, a few meaningless facts and, as ever, a gut bustingly funny astro joke.

We did hold our annual Perihelion Party on 4 January. We are fortunate to have such wonderful guests who truly get into the spirit of the eating, drinking and merriment (a few years ago, we did have a horrible guest who was allegedly throwing black magic around when she didn't get all the attention she thought she deserved. It was rather exciting in a demented kind of way.). There was copious food and drink and yes, I did have to get up for work the next day! Left is one of our participants in the festivities, Jeremy Thomas Morgan who read from his "A Clutch of Poems and Songs for a Night of Gallavanting with Gidwen" book. We ate veggie curry and rice and celebrated being on the wrong side of the tilt of the earth (hence the reason we were freezing our asses off when we're supposed closest to the sun).

Jeremy publishes his work written in his own fair hand. He has the most elegantly beautiful handwriting I've ever seen. Having been spoiled by a keyboard ever since I realised that I was giving my teachers headaches, my own handwriting is pretty bad so I'm not only envious of Jeremy's poetical talent, I'm rather jealous of his calligraphy skills too. To top it all off, he has a beautiful speaking voice! The other photo is of John Etherington of Midheaven books. I love the way he is listening so intently!

At the risk of spoiling the aesthetics of Jeremy's poems by typing them (actually, this poem he did type) I duplicate them for others to enjoy in cyberspace below:

"The last Elf's song at the end of time"

In vain I seek the Way that's gone--

a road towards the Sea

past ruin'd tow'rs that stand alone--which only I can see.

And whither have my kindred fled

who left so long ago--

(for surely, they cannot be dead

who lingered her so slow)?

I see their traces in the land;

I hear their stones' soft song;

I feel their waves upon the strand

of which I dreamed so long!

Now everywhere I send my though

but echo is returned;

Of all the answers I have sought

this one alone is spurned.

No muffled silence calls to me--

no Kindred Song is heard--

as far away the lapping Sea

now lisps its final word.

Yet here in lonely silence, I

shall dream the Final Song

and hope before the Stars all die

that I shall last as long.

Jeremy Morgan (10/10/84)

In other news, I finally finished my certificate for the Faculty of Astrological Studies. I was trying to gain some sort of recognition for the person who employs their retrograde Mercury in the most pointless and stupid manner in the history of astrology (and that's a long history my friend). So I gave up and smartened up. . .and I finally got the certificate.

Here's a few pointless facts to celebrate having Uranus in Pisces:

1. The longest one-syllable word in the English language is "screeched."
2. "Dreamt" is the only English word that ends in the letters "mt"
3. Almonds are members of the peach family.
4. The symbol on the "pound" key (#) is called an octothorpe.
5. The dot over the letter 'i' is called a tittle.
6. Ingrown toenails are hereditary.
7. The word "set" has more definitions than any other word in the English language.
8. "Underground" is the only word in the English language that begins and ends with the letters "und."
9. There are only four words in the English language which end in "-dous": tremendous, horrendous, stupendous, and hazardous.
10. The longest word in the English language, according to the Oxford English Dictionary, is pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis.
11. The only other word with the same amount of letters is its plural: pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosesl.
12. The longest place-name still in use is Taumatawhakatangihangakoauauotamateaturipukakapikimaungahoronukup okaiwe-nuakit natahu, a New Zealand hill.
13. Los Angeles's full name is "El Pueblo de Nuestra Senora la Reinade los Angeles de Porciuncula" and can be abbreviated to 3.63% of its size,L.A.
14. An ostrich's eye is bigger than its brain.
15. Tigers have striped skin, not just striped fur.
16. Alfred Hitchcock didn't have a belly button. It was eliminated when he was sewn up after surgery.
17. Telly Savalas and Louis Armstrong died on their birthdays.
18. Donald Duck's middle name is Fauntleroy.
19. The muzzle of a lion is like a fingerprint - no two lions have the same pattern of whiskers.
20. A pregnant goldfish is called a twit.
21. There is a seven-letter word in the English language that contains ten words without rearranging any of its letters, "therein": the,there, he, in, rein, her, here, ere, therein, herein.
22. Dueling is legal in Paraguay as long as both parties are registered blood donors.
23. A goldfish has a memory span of three seconds.
24. It's impossible to sneeze with your eyes open.
25. Cranberries are sorted for ripeness by bouncing them; a fully ripened cranberry can be dribbled like a basketball.
26. The letters KGB stand for Komitet Gosudarstvennoy Bezopasnosti
27. 'Stewardesses' is the longest English word that is typed with only the left hand.
28. The combination "ough" can be pronounced in nine different ways; the following sentence contains them all: "A rough-coated, dough-faced, thoughtful ploughman strode through the streets of Scarborough; after falling into a slough, he coughed and hiccoughed."
29. The only 15 letter word that can be spelled without repeating a letter is uncopyrightable.
30. Facetious and abstemious contain all the vowels in the correct order, as does arsenious, meaning "containing arsenic."
31. Emus and kangaroos cannot walk backwards, and are on the Australian seal for that reason.
32. Cats have over one hundred vocal sounds, while dogs only have about ten.
33. The word "Checkmate" in chess comes from the Persian phrase "Shah Mat," which means "the king is dead."
34. The reason firehouses have circular stairways is from the days of yore when the engines were pulled by horses. The horses were stabled on the ground floor and figured out how to walk up straight staircases.

And of course, as promised, a very special Mars in the ninth joke:

A man suffering from premature ejaculation went to get some advice from his doctor. The doc told him that masturbating before sex often helped men last longer during the act. The man decided, "What the hell, I'll try it." He spent the rest of the day thinking about where to do it. He couldn't do it in his office. He thought about the restroom, but that was too open. He considered an alley, but figured that was too unsafe. He couldn't do it home because he didn't want his wife to know. Finally, he realized his solution. On his way home, he pulled his truck over on the side of the highway. He got out and crawled underneath as if he was examining the truck. Satisfied with the privacy, he undid his pants and started to do the business. He closed his eyes and thought of his wife. Just as he was getting into it, he felt a quick tug at the bottom of his trousers. Not wanting to lose his mental fantasy, he kept his eyes shut and replied, "What?"

He heard, "This is the police. What's going on down there?"

The man replied, "I'm checking out the rear axle, it's busted."

The policeman then replied, "Well, you might as well check your brakes too while you're down there because your truck rolled down the hill 5 minutes ago."

And the panto continues. . .

Well, first of all, let me say "Happy New Year!" and wish you the very best in making this year the best year ever!

As for me, I'm still playing at Panto or at least it looks like it with my last day of 2008 let's-try-something-a-little-different look!

In honour of taking a risk and trying to look a little different, here's a very special Venus conjunct Uranus in the first trine Jupiter in the 5th!

Two bored casino dealers were waiting at a craps table. A very attractive blonde (obviously, with Uranus involved, it can only be a bottle job) lady arrived and bet twenty thousand dollars on a single roll of the dice.

The dealers shrugged and one of them slowly counted out the cash of what would be her win if her impossible numbers were to come up. Soon, there's a huge stack of money in front of them.

She looked at the stack of money--nearly two million dollars--and said, "I hope you don't mind, but I feel much luckier when I'm nude." With that she stripped from her neck down, rolled the dice and yelled, "Mama needs new clothes!" Then she hollered..."YES! YES! I WON! I WON!"

She jumped up and down and hugged each of the dealers. With that she picked up all the money and clothes and quickly departed. The dealers just stared at each other dumbfounded.

Finally, one of them asked, "What did she roll?"

The other answered, "I thought YOU were watching!"

If I were a boy. . .

If I were a boy, no one would go out with me!! How do I know? Because for this year's pantomime, I did the gender bending thing:Yeah, I was one of the several dwarves. As an aside, doesn't Wynton (my trumpet--which I played as part of the script) look magnificent??

For last year's panto, I played this OTT Queen of something or other:

Haha--I just wanted to see what I looked like as a blonde. To be honest, I found it very therapeutic to play such opposing characters (and even better, no one recognised me). I was thinking, wouldn't it be kinda funny if these two characters--both different sides of me--could have a conversation?? Oh oh, here comes a Venus opposite Mars joke. . .with a little Saturn/Neptune transit:

A male driver is pulled over by a cop and the following conversation takes place:

Man: What's the problem officer?

Cop: You were going at least 75 in a 55 zone.

Man: No sir, I was going 65.

Wife: Oh Peter. You were going 80.

(Man gives his wife a dirty look.)

Cop: I'm also going to give you a ticket for your broken tail light.

Man: Broken tail light? I didn't know about a broken tail light!

Wife: Oh Peter, you've known about that tail light for weeks.

(Man gives his wife a dirty look.)

Cop: I'm also going to give you a citation for not wearing your seat belt.

Man: Oh, I just took it off when you were walking up to the car.

Wife: Oh Peter, you never wear your seat belt.

Man: Shut your mouth, woman!

Cop: Ma'am, does your husband always talk to you this way?

Wife: No, only when he's drunk.

Thanksgiving misgivings

As an North American, I've always thought it was my duty to put Thanksgiving on the calendar. And I've had some wicked Thanksgiving dinners around mine. Growing up, Thanksgiving was the one holiday that the whole family could enjoy without getting too stressed--and with a Canandian mother and an American father, we always celebrated the Canadian and the American Thanksigiving (woohoo--two dinners!). For the Canadian Thanksgiving, I was always travelling because I was in some parade somewhere so dinner would be at someone else's table. For the American Thanksgiving though, we'd eat, then watch some football, then eat some more, then everyone goes to bed and wakes up Friday morning and eats turkey again (Thanksgiving is always the fourth Thursday of November for Americans). With Thanksgiving out of the way, it always meant that Christmas could be prepared for in earnest--at least that's the way it used to be in the good old US of A!. As I grew older though and became a Red Power Indian, I became a bit reluctant to celebrate Thanksgiving. To many Native Americans (bear in mind I'm a half breed) Thanksgiving is a terrible reminder of the past. It was the start of the long lasting genocide of our people. However these days I prefer to look at it more like this:

Anyhooo. . . I did have a wonderful Thanksgiving and it's all about being with frieds and being grateful for all you have. And I have soooo much to be gratfeul for! Here'a few of my wonderful friends:

Mr Mike Day, psychic phenomenon (above).

Me and Gill Dorren. . .and to think I was worried the photos might give a hint as to how much alcohol was consumed on the night!

See my shirt? It says:
LOL

OK, I let you off the joke last week (in honour of Desmond Tutu!). Today I'm having a pop at vegetarians with a Venus cj Jupiter in the 12th joke:

There was a farmer who had many pigs. One day someone went to the farm and asked the farmer: "What do you use to feed your pigs?"

"Well, I give them acorn, corn, and things like that. Why?""Because I am from the Animals Protection Association and I think you don't feed them like you should, they shouldn't eat wastes."Then he fined the farmer. Some days later, another person arrived and asked the same question. The farmer answered: "Well, I feed them very well. I give them salmon, caviar, shrimp, steak...why?"

"Because I am from the United Nations Organization and I think it's unfair that you feed your pigs like that when there are people dying with nothing to eat."And he fined the farmer.

Finally, another man came in and asked just the same question.

The hesitant farmer answered after a few minutes: "Well, I give five dollars to each pig so they can buy whatever they want."

Desmond Tutu!

First, I think I had better say that Bernard Eccles was fabulous at the Lodge on Monday Night. He demonstrated how midpoints are often activated in charts when major events take place. Transits and progressions alone are often not specific enough to explain what is going on. As an example, Bernard used Edward VIII and George IV's chart on the evening of the abdication to explain the power of the outer planet midpoints. Ebertin's COSI can then be used to delineate their meaning.

In other news, I got to meet Desmond Tutu at Canterbury Cathedral! I was there with my school for a celebration service. All the teachers had to wear robes from the university where we last received our degrees--the pupils were knocked out, lol! My last degree was the MA in Cultural Astronomy and Astrology from Bath Spa University. Ha!! So here's me, an astrologer, shaking hands with Desmond Tutu, who had given the sermon:

Without a doubt, this had to be the best handshake I've ever had! Desmond (yeah, we're on a first name basis with each other) gave a beautiful sermon. Besides being a wonderful storyteller, he was incredibly warm and funny. He recounted a story about a small boy who was watching balloons floating in the sky. The balloons were all colours: green, blue, red, purple, yellow. The boy watched them and wondered at their colours, thinking the colours were what was making the balloons defy gravity and float high and higher. Desmond said: "The boy soon realised it wasn't the colours that was making them float, it was what was inside of them."

It was a beautiful day and I'll never forget Desmond Tutu's warmth, optimism and humour. Thank you for the wonderful blessing.

In honour of Desmond Tutu, I will refrain from my usual debauched humour and just say that it was an honour to be in the presence of such human beauty, dignity and integrity.

Thank you Desmond for all your hard work and dedication to make the world a better place! I've never been so inspired!

(Alex Trenoweth with Desmond Tutu)

Another Weekend, Another Conference

"It's Saturday, I must have to be somewhere!" was my first thought of the weekend. Never mind that I spend my entire week teaching and my evenings writing (50,000 words since September--get that, Campion?). If it's a weekend, there's gotta be a seminar or a conference. So I went to the Warburg institute--okay, make that I tried to find the Warberg Insititute. I have the very embarrassing problem of getting bloody lost every time I go someplace new. Anyway, just as I was about to give up, I ran smack into Geoffrey Cornelius who kindly guided me to where I was supposed to go. And was I ever glad I didn't miss it. Not only was it a day of fabulous lectures, not only did I get to have lunch with the gorgeous Kim Farnell, the divine Garry Phillipson and the sublime Allie Bird, I had a profound insight. And here it is: what a bunch of lucky people we astrologers are. While everyone else is watching football or playing in the park or going to the cinema or hanging out in the pub, here we are learning from each other. I was fascinated when our American guests were frantically scribbling references that we lucky British astrologers had known about for years. We are sooooo lucky to have local astrology groups and enough journals and conferences to keep ourselves busy every weekend for the rest of our lives. I almost feel sorry for anyone who is not only a non-astrologer but also for those astrologers who don't live in Britain.

For example, I sat right behind Rob Hand. Smile Rob, I said and he obliged (by the way Rob was one of my FAS tutors for the Mundane section of the diploma). Of getting his PhD in his 60s, Rob said: "Now I got to live long enough to justify it!" Classic! Personally, I've always thought that Rob looks like Burl Ives or Santa Clause.

Next I witnessed Nick Campion and Rob having "a moment" as I made my way out the door. I couldn't quite ear wig enough to hear everything but they looked like they're up to something!

To celebrate being lucky, here's a little counterbalance, a Saturn in the 9th house joke: A man had a hobby of hitting lawyers with his car every time one happened to cross his path. The man sees a priest hitchhiking on the side of the road, so he picks him up and says: "Where to father?"

The priest replies, "The church, of course." On the way, the man sees a lawyer and swerves to hit him, he then remembers he has a priest in the car and tries to miss the lawyer but he still hears a thud.

The man says to the priest: "I'm sorry Father, I honestly tried to miss that lawyer."

The priest says "It's ok, I got him with the door."

Just wind me up. . .

At the Sophia Centre graduation seminar, I met the delightful Crystal Addy. I didn't realise she was John Addy's grand-daughter until I met up with her again at the AA conference. Anyway, here we are, one our way home from the conference.

I reckon being around such inherited brilliance had an effect on me as I'm now doing some astrological work for my school, which, as the school has a Christian ethos, is a rather interesting experience (I'm analysing the birth charts of pupils who are in danger of permanent exclusion to see if there is anything that can be done to help them). It's not that the powers-that-be don't believe or aren't interested in what I have to say, it's more like they're worried about what The-Powers-That-Be at the Head Office are going to say. So here's an edited version of my response:

"I'm glad you've asked about Christianity and astrology. Let’s start by exploring who the Wise Men were and just why Jesus Christ was born at the Winter Solstice and resurrected at the Spring Equinox. We’ll explore how Jesus healed the sick, talked to the dead (and even raised them), spoke to spirits, cast out demons and used magic rituals in his “miracles.” Next we’ll look at how and why a priest named Lucifer was immortalised by St Jerome. Perhaps we could have a discursive argument about the differences between fact and fiction and the relative merits of realising the Bible was not written by God with a big silver pen. We won’t speculate on how much Pagan art was defaced with Christian symbols or how many innocent people were burned at the stake by Christians (or continue to be persecuted). We’ll move smartly onto Thomas Aquinas and how he quite ingeniously merged Aristotlianism with astronomy/astrology and Christianity. Then we’ll take a detour through to Cosimo deMedici’s prodigy Ficino and his translations of Platonic texts which helped bring about a renewed interest in astrology and magic and therefore, the Renaissance. We’ll let ourselves embark on a tangent and study Pico’s famous attack on astrology and expound on how he may have been stitched up by a mad priest called Savaronola. Backtracking slightly, we’ll investigate the works of Paracelsus, Albertus Magnus and Cornelius Agrippa whose works were based on astrology and formed the basis of modern medicine. Let us mention Shakespeare and his thoughts on astrology as evidenced by his work. If someone would still like to say that what happens "up there" doesn’t affect us "down here," then I’d be happy to do a demonstration on how the tides and seasons work, and if that isn't enough, take you somewhere where we can wonder at the perfection of a lunar or, for that matter, a solar eclipse. If anyone wants to say that not everyone fits into the twelve neat categories found in newspapers then I’d be happy to agree with them and point out I have never and will never do a star sign column because I believe that that is the equivalent of a priest selling fake holy water. You want to make fun of what I believe? That smacks of bigotry—which has its basis in pure ignorance. I can put forward a very convincing argument that astrology is actually a religion and to ridicule me or my work is not only bigoted but amounts to nothing short of religious persecution."

Phew. . .I had to be fanned. And no one argued with me, hehe, but I'm ready if they want to!

Make a joke out of that? I hear you ask. Here's a Venus in Virgo, trine Moon in Taurus trine Sun in Capricorn (get it?) joke:

You know what would have happened if it had been three wise WOMEN instead of men, don’t you? They would have asked for directions, arrived on time, helped deliver the baby, cleaned the stable, made a casserole, and brought disposable diapers as gifts!

Coronation Street

Last night I went to see Claire Chandler's last presentation as President of the Astrological Lodge of London. Her talk was entitled "Saturn and Uranus: Ripping the Sky". I gotta say, at the start of her talk, we were such a Uranian audience, interrupting her (and me getting quite political at one point--I blame my ancestors!). There was such emotion in the air. But we settled down eventually, becoming far more Saturnine. It was just like we would expect of Uranium (Uranus' metal) calming down to lead (Saturn's metal). Claire ended her talk by showing us the heavy transits she has coming up and well, I think us Uranus/Pluto babies of the mid sixties are in for a rocky road. And so Claire bowed out as president of the Astrological Lodge of London.

Well, the interregnum lasted about half an hour!!

After a tense 20 minutes of whipping through the agenda, we came to the voting. I'm so pleased to announce my buddy Kim Farnell (shown below along with Angela Voss, Chris Brennan and Ben Dykes after the History seminar) is the new president of the Astrological Lodge of London! I'm even happier to say I will be working on the committee with her and will hopefully carry on with all the good work Claire has done these past few years. I shall miss Claire's leadership but so look foward to working with Kim and everyone else on the committee. I'm wishing, as I'm sure everyoneat the Lodge is wishing, Claire a happy and productive "retirement." BTW, I came up with a quote for Uranus opposite Saturn: "I'm all for democracy as long as I'm on the winning side."

Also standing down as Vice (teehee) President was the delectable Andrew Morton. I've known Andrew for quite a few years and he has never failed to bring out the wryness in me (he being the King of Wry). Seriously, I didn't know I had a wry bone in my body. In fact, I'm not aware of too many bones in my body--time to get to the gym! Andrew and I met at an FAS class. If memory serves, it was the consultancy module and we did each other's charts. We have great synastry together and I can't help but feel it's a shame we don't see more of each other (hint hint Andrew). Anyway, Andrew was the first person to re-locate my chart (I was born in the US but now live in London). Relocation gives me Leo rising and shoves Saturn back into the eighth. So I think we can attribute my sophisticated sense of humour to this. I will miss Andrew too but again, I look forward to working closely with Simon Posner, a man of great intellect and humour, as our new Vice President. Besides that, I'm sure I will see lots of both Andrew and Claire.

OK to demonstrate all the goodness of Saturn in the 8th, here's a little Jupiter conjunct Saturn in 8th joke:

Jeff walks into a bar and sees his friend Paul slumped over the bar. He walks over and asks Paul what's wrong. "Well," replies Paul, "You know that beautiful girl at work that I wanted to ask out, but I got an erection every time I saw her?"

"Yes," replies Jeff with a laugh.

"Well," says Paul, straightening up. I finally worked up the courage to ask her out, and she agreed."
"That's great!" says Jeff, "When are you going out?"

"I went to meet her this evening," continues Paul, "but I was worried I'd get an erection again. So I got some duct tape and taped "it" to my leg, so if I did, it wouldn't show".
"Sensible" says Jeff.

"So I get to her door," says Paul, "and I rang her doorbell. She answered it in the sheerest, sexiest, dress you ever saw."
"And what happened then?" asked Jeff.

"I kicked her in the face."

Fits of Hysterics

On November 3, the Lodge welcomed Mike Harding who was speaking on Everyday Madness. But who is that mad looking woman next to him? LOL

It's been an exciting time at the Lodge with elections for president and other changes. In other news, I don't know what's come over me but I've been mega-productive with my writing. In fact, in the space of a few weeks, I've cleared a lot of projects that have been hanging over my head since the summer. So I've been feeling rather pleased with myself. In fact, so pleased I can look back at how I felt before this period of activity with a sense of humour with a special Mars conjunct Saturn in 8th joke:

Two dwarfs go into a bar, where they pick up two prostitutes and take them to their separate hotel rooms. The first dwarf, however, is unable to get an erection. His depression is made worse by the fact that,from the next room, he hears his little friendshouting out cries of:

"Here I come again ...ONE, TWO, THREE...UUH!" all night long.

In the morning, the second dwarf asks the first, "How did it go?"

The first mutters, "It was so embarrassing. I just couldn't get a hard on.

"The second dwarf shook his head. "You think that's embarrassing?I couldn't even get on the f**king bed."

Three little words I will never say. .

Even after 20 years of astrological studies, through all my adventures with the FAS, Rainbow Circle, The Lodge, The Sophia Centre, UAC and a day at the History of Astrology seminar followed by an evening at The Lodge, you will never hear me say "Astrology bores me."

On Monday night, we at The Lodge were treated to the brilliance of Chris Brennan who patiently explained what the hell to do with the lot of fortune! Finally! After years of having it hanging around on my chart looking rather useless, Chris gets it to make sense. And this is truly the beauty of astrology and why I'm absolutely delighted to call myself forevermore a astudent of astrology: no one is ever going to know it all. There's always something new to learn--and Chris had me diving straight for my ephemeris when I got home on Monday. To learn more, go to Chris' website.

One thing I do know is that there is some weird weather going on! Left is the view from my window on Tuesday night. Snow in October?

For reaching the parts that other schools of astrology can't reach, here's a little Mars conjunct Saturn in the eighth house joke (and quite possibly how I've been feeling about certain schools of astrology!) just for Chris. . .

A Jamaican (and pardon my Jamaican accent) fireman comes home from his first day on the job and says: "Wo-mon, dey do tings right at de station! When de first bell goes, we all jump up. When de second bell goes, we all go down de pole. When de tird bell goes, we all jump on de truck!"

"Wow," says the wife, "Dat sounds efficient!"

"So wo-mon," says the man, "From now on, we gonna do dis: When I shout "Bell One!" you strip naked. When I shout "Bell two!" you jump on de bed. When I shout "Bell three!" we make love all de night long!"

So they give it try. Bell one, she strips. Bell two, she gets nekkid. Bell three, they start to make love all de night long.

A few minutes into it, she yells, "Bell four!"

"Wo-mon, what are you talking about? There's no bell four!"

"Oh yes dere is!"

"What does it mean?" he asks.

She says: "Roll out de hose, it ain't no where near de fire!"

Credit Crunch

This weekend was the Astrological Lodge's History of Astrology Seminar, an event I take great pains not to miss. However, Saturday I had to go to a birthday party and demonstrate my considerable karaoke skills and then force myself to partake in a delicious Turkish meal. So I couldn't get to the seminar on Saturday because I was so obligated which meant I knew better than to even attempt to miss out on Sunday's fun and frolics--not the least because my good friend and Sophia Centre travelling buddy Maurice McCann would be giving his final public lecture. However, Sunday morning I woke up and thought "Oh no! I've slept in and missed Maurice McCann's lecture!" So I pulled myself together and got on the tube toute de suite--and then discovered that I had forgotten all about the clocks going back, lol. So I was only a little late and didn't miss a word of Maurice's lecture on Bonatti. Nor did I miss Maurice's unprecedented attack on the three Roberts which must have made Pico do cartwheels. And yes, Maurice, it was recorded! And c'mon, you can't bow out without being prepared to have the last word (and you know you won't be getting the last word if you stop now)! Secretly, I think Maurice will be back. . .

I also bumped into the delightful Sue Ward whom I will always remember for her spectacular lecture at the AA Conference. Sue has the admirable knack for making very complicated points crystal clear. Unforgettable! Sue also appreciates my fruity language and even threatened to quote me once (she bottled out). But I don't hold it against her. When I read Maurice's lecture at the Bath Spa graduate conference, he put a little note at the bottom of his notes with the instructions: "Don't forget to tell Rob Hand (who was in the audience) that I got his number!" Needless to say, I bottled out. Perhaps Sue and I share the common trait of knowing when to keep quiet. Somehow, I doubt that. . .

OK, we're in the middle of a credit crunch and I've been blowing all my dosh on a thoroughly spectacular weekend with a wide range of people. In fact, I'm feeling rather blessed and thank the gods and goddesses that be for my good fortune. But that's not to say I haven't been exploring ways to cut corners and be frugal. Here'a little Saturn in Cancer in the second house advice I won't be following though. . .

A little old man is taking his evening walk when he sees a woman with perfect breasts. He gets closer and says to her, “Hey lady would let me bite your breasts for £500?”

“Are you crazy?!! she replies and keeps walking away.

He keeps a few steps behind and makes another offer; “Would you let me bite your breasts for £1,000?”

The woman turns back and says, “Listen you; I’m not that kind of a woman! Got it?”

But the very determined old man walking a few feet behind says; “Would you let me bite your breast just once for £10,000?”

The woman stops, thinks about it for a while and says, “Hmmm, £10,000; OK, just once, but let's go to that dark alley.”

They go to the alley, where she takes off her top to reveal the most gorgeous breasts he has ever seen. He grabs them and starts fondling them slowly, caressing them, kissing them, licking them, burying his face in them, but not biting them.

The woman gets annoyed and asks, “Well? Are you going to bite them or not?”

“Nah,” says the old man. “Costs too much…”

Over HERE, Rupert

Dammit Rupert, I said talk to ME! LOL

I went to hear a dialogue with Rupert Sheldrake and Andrew Cohen last Friday: Is evolution sacred? It was, without a hint of sarcasm, one of the most interesting experiences I have ever had and a radical change to my usual Friday night programme (ie, the pub). The topic covered the idea of enlightenment, a notion I always left to those granola-eating floaty type people wearing kaftans. What made it intriguing? It was the way these two men, with their vastly differing views, listened to each other and respected each others' opinions. To say it was an intense experience would be an understatement and there's no way I will even try to sum up what I got out of it, let alone try to explain what someone else might have gotten out of it. However, I will give my viewpoint on animals and enlightenment (since, quite surprisingly, Andrew and I seemed a bit at odds over the topic). Andrew said animals don't have a sense of enlightenment. Well, I disagree and this is why: my cats look directly at my face as if trying to understand my expressions. If they had no interest in me as a fellow being, why would they look at my face? Why don't they just watch what is moving? I think my cats have an awareness of me just as much as I have an awareness of them. Are my cats capable of enlightenment? Who the hell am I to say! But just look at me and my cat Bubbles sleeping! He's in my bed, under my covers with his paw on my shoulder as if to reassure me that he loves me. Anthropromorphic drivel? Yeah probably I'm projecting all over the place. But isn't Bubbles sweet?

To celebrate the potential for cats to become enlightened (and I'm not limiting this potential to cats--in fact, I might even be implying, with my next joke, that animals even have a soul!), here's a very special Mars in the 6th house joke:

One day a cat dies of natural causes and goes to heaven. There he meets the Lord Himself. The Lord says to the cat, "You lived a good life and if there is any way I can make your stay in Heaven more comfortable, please let Me know."

The cat thinks for a moment and says, "Lord, all my life I have lived with a poor family and had to sleep on a hard wooden floor."

The Lord stops the cat and says, "Say no more," and a wonderful fluffy pillow appears.

A few days later, six mice are killed in a tragic farming accident and go to heaven. Again, there is the Lord there to great them with the same offer.

The mice answered, "All of our lives we have been chased. We have had to run from cats, dogs and even women with brooms. Running, running, running; we're tired of running. Do you think we could have roller skates so we don't have to run anymore?"

The Lord says, "Say no more," and fits each mouse with beautiful new roller skates.

About a week later the Lord stops by to see the cat and finds him snoozing on the pillow. The Lord gently wakes the cat and asks him, "How are things since you got here?"

The cat stretches and yawns and replies, "It is wonderful here. Better than I could have ever expected. And those 'Meals On Wheels' you've been sending by are the best!"

Kiss me, I can triple tongue

Update: I'm starting a one woman campaign to get Wynton onto astrodatabank. To do this, I need his time of birth. If anyone can help out, please let me know!

Now on to the regularly scheduled programme.

I've been a Wynton Marsalis fan since I was a kid. I played the trumpet in the Salvation Army and I used to listen to Wynton after band practice just to get a bit of equilibrium. Wynton started playing the trumpet at age six, around the year I was born (oh yeah, this explains why he's so much better than me!). He said he wanted to make somebody feel like John Coltrane made him feel listening it. OK, Wynton, you do it for me, baby. I could (and do!) listen to you all night. You inspire me to drag myself out to South London for jazz band practice.

To honour Wynton, here's a little video from youtube. By the way, this was what I played for my final recital at University. Only, I um, wasn't quite so damn good. But nearly. This reminds me of the traditional trumpet player greeting:

"Hi. Nice to meet you. I'm better than you."

But I think I could restrain from saying this to Wynton.

Oh-oh, I can feel a joke just for Wynton coming up! This one is Sun conjunct Jupiter in Pisces in the tenth with a square to Saturn:

A great jazz trumpet player dies and goes to heaven. When he gets there, he finds out that heaven has a jazz band and rehearsal is about to begin. When he arrives at the rehearsal, he finds out that it is the biggest jazz band he had ever seen. There were over twenty trumpet players, including all the greats, like Miles Davis, Dizzy Gillespie, Louis Armstrong, and many others. The band sounds incredible, the best he had ever heard, and all of the players were great, with one exception. The lead player was horrible! The lead player had no high chops, couldn't play a decent swing groove, and could not improvise. Yet this horrible player was on lead, really looked like he was getting into the songs, and looked incredibly smug and pleased with himself after every song. Incredulous, he asked the player next to him, "Who is that guy? He's horrible!"

The other player replied, "Oh, that's just God. He only likes to think that he's Wynton Marsalis."

I love you, Wynton. Happy Birthday!!

The new AA journal editor!!

So, here I am standing next to John Green, the new AA editor. I'm going to stop standing next to slim people. Reminds me of a Jupiter cj the ascendant joke with Saturn in the eighth (inconjunct Jupiter for very obvious reasons):

A man is cooking in his back yard on his BBQ grill. He glances over at his wife and notices how large her behind is.

He then looks at his grill and looks back at his wife and says, "Honey I think your butt might be as big as the grill!"

He didn't stop there, he then went into the house and got a tape measure and measured the grill then his wife's ass.

Later that night, the couple decided to get a little frisky in bed.

The wife then said “I don't see any reason for me to fire up this fat-ass grill for that little weiner."

BTW, this joke has nothing to do with John!

Yup, still going on about the conference

And I'm still telling Satan jokes. . .but not because I had the chance to spend some time with the devilishly gorgeous Ben Dykes (left).

I met Ben at the United Astrology Conference in Denver and he is not only a young man of great intelligence (a PhD and all!) but he's a genuinely nice guy. He's also very generous with the vodka. Ben did some translations of Bonatti's work--how clever is that!?--which he will be presenting at the Lodge history seminar later this month.

So, in honour of devishly gorgeous men, here's a little Pluto in the 7th house joke:

One bright, beautiful Sunday morning, everyone in the small New England town got up early and went to the local church. Before the services started, the townspeople were sitting in their pews and idly chatting about their lives, their families, etc., when suddenly, Satan appeared at the front of the church. Everyone started screaming and running for the front entrance, trampling each other in a frantic effort to get away from evil incarnate. Everyone quickly evacuated the Church, except for one elderly gentleman who sat calmly in his pew, not moving... seemingly oblivious to the fact that God's ultimate enemy was in his presence. Now this confused Satan a bit, so he walked up to the man and said, "Do you not know who I am?"

The man replied, "Yep, sure do."

Satan asked, "Aren't you afraid of me?"

"Nope, sure ain't," said the man.

Satan was a little perturbed at this and queried,"Why aren't you afraid of me?"

The man calmly replied, "Been married to your sister for over 31 years."

A little more Neptune

After having my photo taken with Neil, I crawled across the table to Geoffrey Cornelius! Not really, I just barged into his conversation with Nicola Allsop and demanded that Neil take my photo! Seriously, I just smiled sweetly (and notice that beer is still not finished).

To celebrate a really fabulous night with a lot of truly fabulous people, here's another special Neptune joke for all us fabulous people who look to the stars!

Things That Are Difficult to Say When Drunk:
Innovative
Preliminary
Proliferation
Cinnamon

Things That Are Very Difficult to Say When Drunk:
Specificity
Anti-constitutionalistically
Passive-aggressive disorder
Transubstantiate

Things That Are Downright Impossible to Say When Drunk:
Nope, no more booze for me!
Sorry, but you're not really my type.
Taco Bell? No thanks, I'm not hungry.
Good evening, officer. Isn't it lovely out tonight?
Oh, I couldn't! No one wants to hear me sing karaoke.
I'm not interested in fighting you.
Thank you, but I won't make any attempt to dance, I have no coordination. I'd hate to look like a fool!
Where is the nearest bathroom? I refuse to pee in this parking lot or on the side of the road.
I must be going home now, as I have to work in the morning.

Just an observation. . .

At the Astrological Association's conference last weekend, I observed Neil Spencer fussing over his food. Never one to miss an opportunity (having been a formal journalist myself), I sauntered over to Neil's table and threw myself at his feet for this photo. Curiously, he made this odd gesture at Nick Campion who was sitting behind him. I love Neil and we go waaaaaay back to "Gone With the Wind" (OK, "True as the Stars Above") and the Club of 27 (which has been resurrected for non-astrologers at Camden Market--but let it be known: the astrologers got there first). Neil presented Kurt Cobain and I presented Janis Joplin at the Lodge.

Oh god, I just realised I am clutching yet another pint of the aqua vitae. . .

Here comes a few Neptune jokes to celebrate. . .all those EMPTY BOTTLES of wine on his table!

6 stages of inebriation:

Jocose

Verbose

Bellicose

Morose

Lachrymose

Comotose

A planetary guide to wines: (this one written by moi)

The sun: Warm, self brewed and when you drink it, everyone notices you.

The Moon: A family label, makes you reflective and, usually, tearful about the past

Mercury: very light and easy to drink, imbibe and you reveal every secret and morsel of gossip you have been carefully containing your whole life. Good thing it makes you fast on your feet. . .

Venus: a sweet wine, usually taken as a dessert. Makes you feel amorous and attractive to the opposite sex

Mars: slightly spicy and gives you the horn. Then makes you want to fight everyone for the object of your affection

Jupiter: a full bodied, foreign wine, usually quite expensive. Typically used during Communion

Saturn: Bitter or sour taste--usually because your great aunt has been hoarding it since the Crimean War. Gives you one hell of a hangover.

Uranus: difficult to describe as it's a one-off. Makes you give a rebel yell. Several times.

Neptune: You don't remember what this tastes like. In fact you don't remember much of anything that night.

Pluto: A few sips of this and nothing is the same again. . .

Entertainment Value

Can't resist one more blog about Chris Mitchell--and OK, I admit it, I just like the joke! And Chris' outfit.

To celebrate great entertainment (and it was also very informative!), a very special Sun in the 12th with a Mars transit!

A circus zebra was sent to a farm to recuperate on the advice of the Veterinary surgeon. The zebra felt happy on being released in an enclosure but soon began to feel lonely and bored. It decided to seek company so he jumped over the fencing and trotted to the farm house where he saw anumber of strange looking animals. The zebra first walked up to the chicken and said, "Hello! I am an African zebra. Who are you?"

The chicken replied, "Well, I am a chicken.”

"Glad to know you." said the zebra. "Actually I am a performing zebra from a circus. I dance and do a trick which makes people clap and that makes my master happy and he takes care of me. What do you do?"

"Well, I scratch the ground, feed on grain and lay eggs which makes my master happy. Glad to know you too and welcome." The zebra then introduced itself one by one to all other animals around the farm house and felt very welcome at the farm. Then it looked around and spotted another strange animal in an enclosure nearby. It jumped over the fencing into the enclosure and approached the animal.

"Hello, I am an African zebra! Actually, I am a performing zebra from a circus coming here for a rest. I dance and do tricks, which makes people clap and that makes my master happy and he takes care of me. Who are you and what do you do?"

In a low voice the reply came, "I am a bull, a stud bull."

"And what do you do?" asked the dancing Zebra.

"Take off your pajamas and I show you," said the stud bull.

When shall we three meet again?

We came, we saw, we conjured? Did you hear about the astrologer who gave up astrology? Apparently there was no future in it!

Here's Lynn Bell, Wendy Stacey and I enjoying an evening beverage after a fantastic day at the Astrological Association's conference at Staverton Park, near Rugby. Notice the box I'm clutching so carefully? In it are all the receipts and records of monetary transactions for the DVDs and CDs for the talks at the conference. If you're worried you missed something (and even if you were there for every single session, you missed something wonderful at another session), you can purchase these talks at the AA website.

One of the hot topics was the ludicrous "law" about astrologers having to declare they're only entertainers and their consultations are "just for fun." I don't know what it is about stupid laws but here's a special Mars conjunct Jupiter in the 9th with a Saturn transit for all our lawyer friends who, no doubt, we're going to have to contact a bit more often:

A very successful lawyer parked his brand-new Jaguar XK-8 in front of the office, ready to show it off to his colleagues. As he got out, a truck came along, too close to the curb, and completely tore off the driver's door of the Jag. The counselor immediately grabbed his cell phone and dialed 911. In less than five minutes, a policeman pulled up. Before the cop had a chance to ask any questions, the lawyer started screaming hysterically. His Jag, which he had just picked up the day before, was now completely ruined and would never be the same, no matter how the body shop tried to make it new again. After the lawyer finally wound down from his ranting, the cop shook his head in disgust and disbelief.

"I can't believe how materialistic you high rolling' lawyers are," he said. "You are so focused on your possessions that you don't notice anything else."

"How can you say such a thing? asked the lawyer.

The cop replied, "Didn’t you know that your left arm is missing from the elbow down? It must have been torn off when the truck hit you."

"OH MY GOD!!" screamed the lawyer, "My Rolex!!!!"

Medieval Boy Toys

I don't know about this. . .

Chris Mitchell says he was giving a lecture on Medieval astrology and the methods used at that time but I think he looks like he's having an awful lot of fun at the AA conference!

However, Chris is such a wonderful friend, even if he's never kissed me. Oh wait. . .he has kissed me. . .at Sue Farebrother's party.

Oh man, I've got to keep my lips to myself! No wait. That would be no fun!

Love ya Chris! And to prove it. . .here's a very special Mars conjunct Moon in the eighth house joke!

A man stumbled into the emergency room dressed in a medieval bard's outfit, clutching his stomach with one hand and moaning in agony. With his free hand he was clutching a lute, which he dropped on the floor in front of the nurse's station. He then collapsed in a heap on the floor, rolled himself into a fetal position, and began to moan much louder. Fearing serious food poisoning, doctors quickly brought a stretcher out and rolled him into the bowels of the ER. Half an hour later, the man walked past the nurse and out the door, whistling happily to himself. Noticing that the man looked much healthier, the nurse asked one of the doctors what was ailing the man.

The doctor shrugged and said "nothing big....just minstrel cramps."

I kissed a monk (and I liked it!)

It was the Astrological Association's conference this weekend and what a great time we had! I especially enjoyed sucking the face off of the luscious Garry Philipson! No, it's not what it appears. . .really! I said "Let's give them something to talk about." So Garry laid his juicy lips onto mine.

A-hem!

To celebrate former monks (Garry really is a former Buddhist monk), here's special Saturn in the 9th just for his sexy self:

A monk newly initiated into his order was told that he'd have to spend the initial 20 years of training in complete silence. He was told that he would only be allowed to say two words every three years.

After 3 years of studiously keeping this vow, he was summoned before the Abbot and asked if he had anything to say, in two words or less. He replied, "Food Sucks." Three more years went by when he was again summoned before the Abbot. "Well, do you have anything to say now," the monk was asked. "Bed Hard," was the answer. After three more years the Abbot found our friend and asked him if he'd like to speak. "I Quit!" said the monk.

"Well, I'm not suprised," said his Abbottship. "You've done nothing but complain since you arrived.!"

And Garry--you can't say you've never been kissed again!

Just balancing the score sheet. . .

After a week that saw me lecturing my pupils on the merits of giving up their free seats on the bus to the elderly, I feel little entitled to share a Saturn in the 8th house joke:

A man was walking down the street when he noticed his grandpa sitting on the porch, in the rocking chair, with nothing on from the waist down.

"Grandpa, what are you doing?" he exclaimed. The old man looked off in the distance and did not answer him. "Grandpa, what are you doing sitting out here with nothing on below the waist?" he asked again.

The old man slowly looked at him and said, "Well, last week I sat out here with no shirt on, and I got a stiff neck ....This was your Grandma's idea."

Ahhhh. . .

Here's something to aspire to. . .a special Venus in 7th--with a Neptune transit--for all you lovers everywhere. . .

Jack wakes up with a huge hangover after the night at a business function. He forces himself to open his eyes and the first thing he sees is a couple of aspirins next to a glass of water on the side table. And, next to them, a single red rose! Jack sits down and sees his clothing in front of him, all clean and pressed. Jack looks around the room and sees that it is in perfect order, spotlessly clean. So is the rest of the house. He takes the aspirins, cringes when he sees a huge black eye staring back at him in the bathroom mirror and notices a note on the table: "Honey, breakfast is on the stove, I left early to go shopping – Love you!!" He stumbles to the kitchen and sure enough, there is hot breakfast and the morning newspaper. His son is also at the table, eating.

Jack asks, "Son...what happened last night?"

"Well, you came home after 3 am! drunk and out of your mind. You broke the coffee table, puked in the hallway and got that black eye when you ran into the door."

"So, why is everything in such perfect order, so clean, I have a rose and breakfast is on the table waiting for me?"

His son replies, "Oh, THAT! Mom dragged you to the bedroom and when she tried to take your pants off, you screamed, "Leave me alone, bitch, I'm married!!!”

Still swearin'

Something tells me I shouldn't be swearing so much. . .so I told that little voice to shut the fuck up. I'm back at school, after all. The kids swear way more than I do! To celebrate bad little words, here's my very special Jupiter in the 8th, ruling the 7th joke. . .

A woman goes into a pet shop looking for a parrot. The assistant shows her a beautiful African Grey parrot.

"What about this one, Madam? A beautiful bird, and it's an absolute steal at only $20."

"Why is it that cheap?" the woman asks.

"Well", replies the assistant, "it used to live in a brothel and as a result its language is a touch fruity".

"Oh, I don't mind that", said the woman, making her mind up, "I'm broad minded and it'll be a laugh having a profane parrot". So saying, she buys the parrot and takes him home. Once safely in his new home, the parrot looks around and squawks at the woman.

"Fuck me, a new brothel and a new madam".

"I'm not a madam and this is not a brothel" scolds the woman trying not to laugh. A little later the woman’s two teenage daughters arrive home.

"Un fucking-believable. A new brothel, a new madam, and now two new prostitutes," says the parrot when he sees the daughters.

"Mum,tell your parrot to shut up, we're not prostitutes" complain the girls,but they all see the funny side and have a laugh at their new pet. A short while later, the woman’s husband Dave comes home.

"In fucking-credible, a new brothel, a new madam, new prostitutes,but the same old clients ..... How ya doin', Dave?"

Pluto square Uranus (for Ray Merriman), part 2

Well, we all know what Pluto rules: hell, sewers and all things decaying underground. And with a name like Ur-anus, perhaps you should know in advance that this is not the type of joke a kid will appreciate. No wait, I take it back. . . it's exactly the type of joke a kid would appreciate. It's the parents who might not want them to hear it. So if you're under, say, 18, it's time to look away. Also look away if you're of a sensitive nature--though as this aspect is currently in the sky, it's highly unlikely you'll be able to avoid getting offended no matter how much you try!

A man wakes up early one Saturday morning and says to his wife: "Woman, we're going fishing, whether you like it or not!"

The woman groans, rolls over and mumbles "The hell I am. I hate fishing."

"Look," the man says, "I'm tired of you griping about fishing. You're going fishing with me and the dog and that's that!"

The woman mumbles, "I am NOT going fishing."

The man says, "Oh yes you are. You are my WIFE. You will do what pleases me. And fishing pleases me. So you will come fishing with me."

"Look," the woman says, "I hate fishing. I do want to please you but not fishing. Can't we do something else that pleases you?" she adds saucily.

The man thinks for a moment. "OK," he says. "I'll give you a choice of three things that please me. You choose one and then I can never claim that you never do anything that pleases me."

The woman considers this for a minute and agrees.

"OK," says the man. "Here are your choices: 1) you come fishing with me and the dog, 2) you give me a blow job or 3) you take it up the ass. I'm going out to pack the car. When I come back, you give me your answer."

"Ugg! I don't want to do any of those! They're ALL disgusting!"

"I'm going out to pack the car," the man says again. "When I come back, you'd better have your answer!"

He leaves the room and she considers in each option in turn. None appeal. So she starts to think of which one would be worse and she thinks that up the ass would be the worst with fishing a close second. So with no other option, she decides on the blow job.

The husband returns and she smiles sweetly and says: "Darling, I'll go for the blow job."

He says, "Great!" and pulls his trousers down and gets himself into position.

"Yuk!" she says. "You smell all shitty!"

"Yes. That's right," says the husband, "The dog didn't want to go fishing either!"

(Sorry Ray but you should have known better!!)

Pluto square Uranus (for Ray Merriman), part 1

When I met up with Ray, he challenged me to come up with a joke for Pluto square Uranus. Funnily enough, my buddy Sue Farebrother has the exact same request, with the infamous words "Let's see you make a joke out of that"!

For more, check out part two!

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!"