Showing posts with label Neptune. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Neptune. Show all posts

Monday 29 September 2008

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. . .

Sunday 1 June 2008

Cleaning up the underworld

I couldn't decide whether to sing sexy sexagenarian Harrison Ford's praises or blow cyber raspberries at Boris Johnson for "banning" alcohol on public transport. So I thought, in true Gemini-rising style, I'd do both.

Goddamn, that Harrison Ford is one hot old man. He's sixty-six this year? Blimey. Why am I on about Harrison? I went to see the Indiana Jones flick last night with my own sexy sexagenarian (well, I do have Capricorn one the 8th house cusp). A lot of these sexy sexagenarian's were born during the Saturn/Pluto conjunction of 1946 (actually Harrison was born a few years before so strictly speaking he doesn't count--however, he does have Pluto transiting his progressed Moon) which means that their second Saturn return would trigger that smouldering sensuality of Pluto in Leo. Think Steven Tyler of Aerosmith and Mick Jagger. Oh and for the boys, Susan Sarandon.

Boris Johnson has just banned drinking alcohol on public transport. Oh yeah right, that'll work. Who's going to enforce that one? Transport police? They can't even stop mobs of teenagers rampaging through the aisles emancipating everyone of their wallets and electronic goodies. I would suggest we should ban stupid hairstyles on men but half the male astrologers would be in the clink and we have so few as it is.
OK, in honour of today's sexy sexagenarians and stupid ideas from our new mayor of London that will never work, a special, triple conjunction joke appropriate for a Sunday.
Jupiter, Saturn, Neptune cj in the 9th house
Billy was a painter and alcoholic who was down on his luck. One day, the local vicar offered to pay him for repainting the local cathedral but because of his unreliability, would only pay after the job was finished. So Billy checked his inventory and after a few quick calculations, realised he would be quite short of paint. Not one to be easily discouraged, he mixed the good paint with some turps and got to work. When he finished, everyone was very impressed. The new paint job was just what was needed. So the vicar paid Billy and Billy went out to buy a few cans of Stella to celebrate. On the way back, Billy decided he would have a final look at his mighty fine work. To his surprise, a crowd had also gathered to join in admiration. Just then, clouds began to gather and very soon, it began to rain. It didn't take long for the crowd to notice that Billy's paint was washing away. The crowd turned on poor Billy and just as they were about to burn him at the stake, Billy cried out to God for help.
"I am so sorry, God! Please help me!" he hollered. Suddenly, there was a mighty crack of lightning and from the sky, a terrifying finger of flame emerged pointing straight a Billy. Simultaneously, the ropes that bound him, burned away.
"Now go," a voiced boomed, "re-paint and thin no more."