Enid Williams: Rock Astrologer

Not only did I bump into Shelley von Strunckel the other night at the Astrological Lodge of London, I also caught up with my friend, rock goddess and astrologer, Enid Williams, who is in the heavy metal band, Girlschool. Enid was worried about taking a bad photo. Ha! As if! Here's Enid's my space link! You have got to see this chick do her guitar thing!

In honour of my favourite rock astrologer (OK, she's the only rock astrologer I know of but she is MEGA cool), here's my very flattering Sun cj Neptune with a Jupiter transit in the 7th joke.

A guitarist finishes gig and is the last one in the place with the barman, who asks if he'd like a scotch before he goes home. The player says 'sure' and the barman plonks down a big glass of the juice and a little bowl of peanuts to go with it, then wanders off to wipe down the counter. This leaves the gun guitarist all by himself for a minute.

From nowhere a little voice says, "Great gig man, you're one hot picker."

The player looks at the barman and says, "Thanks."

The barman says, "What for?"

The player says, "For sayin' nice things about my work."

The barman says, "I didn't say nothing."

The guitarist thinks it's late and he's a bit spaced so he'd better head off when another little voice says: "Yeah, great licks, man and nice moves too, you sure cut it up there."

The guitar player turns around and says, "Thanks," but there's nobody there.

The feller at the bar says, "Are you ok?" because the picker looks a bit pale.

The guitarist says, "Yeah, I think so."

Then, as he empties his glass another voice says, "Hot licks, great look, wonderful style man, the chicks sure got off on you!"

The guitarist says, 'OK! THAT'S IT! WHAT'S GOING ON HERE?'

The barman runs down and says, "What's your problem dude?"

The guitarist says 'WHERE ARE THOSE VOICES COMING FROM? IS THIS CANDID CAMERA?'

"What voices? What are they saying?"

When the guitarist tells the barman what was going on and what was said, the barman says: "Oh that'll be the peanuts, man. They're complimentary!"

Alex Trenoweth's guide to annoying star signs

OK, anyone who knows me knows how I feel about star signs (equivalent to a priest selling fake holy water). But yesterday, I met the only astrologer in the world with a cooler surname than me, Shelley von Strunckel . (And do you see what I mean about me never being able to manage to look glamourous?) Shelley encouraged astrologers to be more generous to other astrologers and to stop trying to out do each other. Inspired, I decided to offer the proverbial olive branch to my friends who write the newspaper astrology columns.

In case you haven't figured it out, the jokes in this blog are a collection rather than my own intellectual material (I keep waiting to find a threat for legal action in the comments: you know: "that's my joke, you astrologer, you."). However, this guide is my work so if you're going to quote it, make sure you attribute it to me, okay? On second thought, don't tell ANYONE I did a star sign guide. (Thanks for a fab talk, Shelley--and it was lovely to meet you!)

Alex Trenoweth's guide to annoying star signs

Aries: Make them wait in a long queue that doesn’t seem to be moving
Taurus: Move their furniture around--just a little bit. Eat in front of them without offering them anything. Make sure you finish every crumb.
Gemini: Don’t speak to them or don’t give them the chance to speak at all. Make sure you immobilise their hands too.
Cancer: Insult their mothers, their country or their offspring. Deny them all dairy products. Especially cheese (all right, that would get on MY nerves)
Leo: Hide their hair gel/hair brush, then take away their mirrors
Virgo: Eat something that makes your fingers sticky then shake their hand. Make sure there's no running water/soap/hand wipes first.
Libra: Let them know they’re not invited to your party. Make a big point of handing out the invitations in front of them.
Scorpio: Return their “evil” glare without a flinch, expose their secret plans, act as if you're not morally offended at their double entendres.
Sagittarius: Tie them up. Gag them and don’t let them exercise their right to freedom of speech. Hide their passport.
Capricorn: Put everyone to work, then make sure everyone gets a pay rise and promotion except them. Tell them they're lazy and will never amount to anything.
Aquarius: Deny them the opportunity to do group work, make them wear a business suit with the tie done all the way to the top. Ensure they blend in with the crowd.
Pisces: Give them all the alcohol they can drink then give them a map and tell them to find their own way home.

And Jules and Kim: You know. . .

Practice Hen Night

Well, they say practice makes perfect so me and my buddies Jules Genik and Kim Farnell did a dummy run of my hen night. And it's a good thing we did too because the restaurant wasn't quite what we'd expected. The food wasn't bad but it was a bit over-priced and the menu wasn't as extensive as we would have liked. To top it off, the service wasn't so hot (though perhaps we can excuse this because the Maitre 'D had a heavy cold--which he kept inadvertantly demonstrating to us). For the better part of the meal, we were also the only three in there which made me wonder why it wasn't more busy on a Saturday night in the middle of London. Then there was the thing with the two ambulances and three police cars outside that convinced us that perhaps this wouldn't be the best place for a group of women to feel safe after a few drinks and without male escort.

However, don't you just love it when you do something different with you hair and it works?

Here's me at the start of the night, looking somewhat glam (being a teacher, the glamourous look is something I rarely manage. No matter how hard I try, I end up still looking like a teacher!).

And here's me a few hours later at a club we found near Oxford Circus, looking a little tired. Don't be too hard on me--it's 1am and my bedtime is usually about 9:30. Special note: Jules has this lipstick that makes your lips feel like you've been supping the tabasco sauce. But don't they look lush?

And the nominee for the weirdest toilets goes to. . .

this club in London had toilets that looked like something out of Alien. I was scared to use them and opted for a hedge ticket on the way home. No not really, I did use them but I was still pretty freaked out.

Me and Kim, with Jules taking the photograph. Some sweet young male thangs made the passing comment: "There's some nice looking ladies!" Made our night! Although, standing next to Kim, I think I look like a hulking female impersonator!

In honour of hairstyles that turn out okay, Hen's nights that could have been turkeys if it hadn't been for the dummy run and getting compliments out of young stud muffins, here's my joke to provide a little counterbalance. . .

Saturn in 6th

A lady was walking down the street to work and she saw a parrot on a perch in front of a pet store. The parrot said to her, "Hey lady, you are really ugly."

Well, the lady is furious! She stormed past the store to her work. On the way home she saw the same parrot and it said to her, "Hey lady, you are really ugly."

She was incredibly ticked now. The next day the same parrot again said to her, "Hey lady, you are really ugly."

The lady was so ticked that she went into the store and said that she would sue the store and kill the bird.

The store manager replied, "That's not good," and promised he wouldn't say it again. When the lady walked past the store that day after work the parrot called to her, "Hey lady."

She paused and said, "Yes?"

The bird said, "You know."

Pretty Kitty

I love cats.

I especially love it when they walk on me when I'm in bed. I love the way they stick their cold little noses in my ear and purr. I love to watch them stretch. I love it when they meow at me because I'm not opening their tin of food quick enough. I love it when they rub themselves against my legs. I keep thinking I'd like to get them to paint like the cat, right.

Anyway, this morning my beautiful boy, Purrseus (below left), killed a mouse just for me. How do I know he killed it for me? Because he left it right where he knew I would be sure to step on it. Yuk. Try having mouse guts squashed between your toes at 6 am. I do love my cats though (we also have his twin brother Bubbles). So much that I'm going to declare it Caturday with a gorgeous range of Venus in the 6th house jokes. By the way, you might know that small animals rule the 6th house and big animals ruled the 12th. So how do you know if an animal is "big" or "small"? Well, apparently, if it's bigger than a goat, it's 12th house and if it's smaller than a goat it's the 6th. However, I forgot to ask: "what about goats themselves?"

No matter. . .here's a few cat jokes. Happy Caturday!

1. Did you hear about the cat who swallowed a ball of wool? She had mittens.

2. What is the difference between a cat and a comma? One has the paws before the claws and the other has the clause before the pause.

3. Why don't cats play poker in the jungle? Too many cheetahs.

And thanks to Claire Chandler!

Just a public thank you to my buddy and amazing Astrological Lodge of London president Claire Chandler for rescuing me last week. Thanks Claire (and Russ)!!

Here we are at Sue Farebrother's aforementioned, (but still not revealing numbers), party.

And to really give my thanks, here's my Mercury in the sixth house joke just for her (OK and for Russ too):

A mangy looking guy who goes into a bar and orders a drink.

The bartender says, "No way, pal. I don't think you can pay for it."

"You're right," the guy says. "I don't have any money, but if I show you something you haven't seen before, will you give me a drink?"

"You have a deal, my friend," says the bartender.

The guy reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a hamster. He puts the hamster on the bar and it runs to the end of the bar, down the side of the bar, across the room, up the piano, onto the keyboard and starts playing Gershwin music. The hamster can really play...

"You're right... I've never seen anything like that before," says the bartender. "That hamster is really gifted."

The guy downs the drink and asks the bartender for another.

"Will that be cash or another miracle, pal?" asks the bartender.

"Watch this," replies the guy. Again, he reaches into his coat again and pulls out a frog. He puts the frog onto the bar, and the frog starts to sing. The frog has a marvelous voice and great pitch. A fine singer. A stranger from the other end of the bar runs over to the guy and offers him $300 for the frog.

"It's a deal," says the guy. He takes the three hundred and gives the stranger the frog. The stranger runs out of the bar.

"Are you some kind of nut?" asks the bartender. "You sold a singing frog for $300? It could have been worth millions. You must be crazy."

"Not so," says the guy. "The hamster is a ventriloquist."

Happy Birthday Sue Farebrother

My buddy Sue Farebrother turned an age I won't reveal! Here's a photo. We had so much fun SOMEONE couldn't hold the camera still (a-HEM).

To celebrate this mystery, I have a little joke just for her. It can only be Uranus/Mars (ruling sixth) cj the Sun of the solar return. . .in the eighth house.

A young woman was coming up to her 21st birthday and for all of the previous month, she had dropped heavy hints to family, friends and colleagues about the impending big day. The morning of her birthday, she had expected her roommates to have left a small but tasteful pile of presents and cards but she could find none. She waited for one of them to wish her a happy birthday and cue a deluge of happy wishes. Nothing. So she checked the morning mail, expecting the postman would need a wheelbarrow to make the deliveries. There was nothing but the electric bill. Not one to get to disheartened, she remained optimistic her work would bring the desired good wishes. Nothing. At lunch time, she went out and bought herself a little badge that said "Birthday Girl," hoping to jog some faulty memories. It seemed no one even noticed. She stayed at work later than she should have, still expecting someone at work might have remembered. No one did--and she was the last to leave. How can such a popular girl as myself be forgotten? she wondered. So she went home, still hopeful there might be some sort of surprise arrangements. She positioned herself by the phone, where she was still waiting some time later. Depressed, she got out the old peanut butter, smeared a thick layer on her nether regions and called her faithful bull mastiff to do the birthday honours. She was just forgetting all her troubles when she the front door suddenly opened and she was immediately surrounded by every friend, member of family and work colleague she had ever known. Before anyone could take in what was going on, they all yelled: "SURPRISE!"

Pluto, RIP

Not too long ago, before the astrological rage to predict what would happen once Pluto was in Capricorn (this was when Pluto was actually a planet!), the Lord of the Underworld was on the galactic centre. I miss Pluto. But I'm happy astronomers say he doesn't matter anymore. This means we don't have to worry about anihilating ourselves anymore because we've lost the touch. In fact, since we're about to use up everything instead, we should just use it up faster. Oh wait. . .

All right, I'll admit it: I'm still annoyed about Boris' new law. So annoyed, I'm going to reminisce about when Pluto was conjunct the galactic centre (there's probably a Neptune transit here somewhere but that's not exactly new news (since everyone alive has a Pluto-Neptune aspect)) (yes I just did do tricky things with parentheses) (but don't worry, it will be all right in the end). There's no better way to remember the good old days than with a right old giggle. Here's to when Pluto was conjunct the Galactic Centre:

Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson go on a camping trip. After a good dinner and a bottle of wine, they retire for the night, and go to sleep.
Some hours later, Holmes wakes up and nudges his faithful friend. “Watson, look up at the sky and tell me what you see.”
“I see millions and millions of stars, Holmes” replies Watson.
“And what do you deduce from that?”
Watson ponders for a minute. “Well, astronomically, it tells me that there are millions of galaxies and potentially billions of planets. Astrologically, I observe that Saturn is in Leo so we should look forward to more refined, respectable hairstyles. Horologically, I deduce that the time is approximately a quarter past three. Meteorologically, I suspect that we will have a beautiful day tomorrow. Theologically, I can see that God is all powerful, and that we are a small and insignificant part of the universe. But what does it tell you, Holmes?”
Holmes is silent for a moment.
“Watson, you idiot!” he says. “Someone has stolen our tent!”