Jeff’s Electric Light Horoscopes: September 23rd-30th 2009

Posted on Tuesday, June 23rd, 2009 and is filed under MUSICLE. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

Hi I’m Jeff Lynne and I’m from Bir’min’em. I also used be in the right groovy band what were called Electric Light Orchestra – aka ELO – if your feeling lazy.

I knocked out dozens of classic tunes over the decades but you young’ins will probably be most familiar with me cheeky little ditty what was called Mr Blue Sky. Was right chuffed with that one – have a gander there below…

Anyway when I’m not writing or producing hit tunes, I like to sit in me back garden here in Bir’min’em and stare up at the lovely stars. Suppose over the years I kind ‘ave become a tad handy with the astrology and that kinda lark.

So here be me horoscopes for the week ahead. Peace and love!

CAPRICORN:

You are coping well with your inordinate fear of towels – the red cotton one beneath your bed no longer watches you when you sleep.

Your lucky fragrance this week will be ‘the tip of a stranger’s penis’.

A tortoise in Sumatra will feature prominently in your leg breakage this coming summer – PLEASE AVOID THE TORTOISE WHEN JUMPING ACROSS THE WET ROCKS (you’ve been warned).

AQUARIUS:

It is time to let go of past love and to take solace in the thought that Matt – your boyfriend of sixteen years – was merely stringing you along until he finally bagged a chick with ‘air-tight abs’.

Little can be done with the colour of your toe – it is septic and must be removed at the earliest opportunity.

Your ballet career will end abruptly this week – PREPARE FOR FURTHER HEARTBREAK.

PISCES:

This week will see you cause general degrees of panic in your parents social circle when you disrupt your cousin’s wedding by the drunken prolapse of your rectum during the best mans speech. It will be well into Autumn before your mother answers your calls.

ARIES:

Its time to put your head down and work hard – forget the indignities of the past, roll up your sleeves - and put your nose to the grindstone.

On Wednesday you will be kidnapped by a Sado-Masochistic internet porn gang and you will spend your waking hours in agony as you are forced to put your head down against a grindstone whilst unsmiling Japanese teenage girls masturbate to the sound of your cheeks being flayed to the bone. Best of luck, mate.

TAURUS:

On Wednesday afternoon you will be largely devoured by sharks.

GEMINI:

Your boss is not the ogre you think he is. In fact, if anything, he’s a wittier and more rounded human being than you will ever be.

People are no longer interested in your story about the time you danced with Koala bears in Australia – you are not impressing anyone and are just coming across as a dismal bore and you should probably consider a trip to Tehran wearing only a thong and Stars and Stripes body paint.

CANCER:

Your lucky number this century is ‘11′.

Your lucky hair shape this week is ‘the Sean Penn slick-back-fall-forward quiff.’

Your lucky parent is ‘DADDY’.

LEO:

Last week you won an Oscar for Best Actress in the motion picture ‘The Reader’. This week, however, you will win no further Oscars.

Your husband will continue to resemble George Michael’s fat little brother.

VIRGO:

Six types of rainbow will be found in your soul. Three will be lucky, three will not.

Your willingness to believe in mystic, new-age twaddle will lead to sudden neck breakage when you attempt to straddle a young bullock in a misguided attempt to ‘lay lips upon his restless spirit.’

LIBRA:

Todd Carty off Eastenders and The Bill hopes that someday you stop looking at the mole on his lower lip each time his miserable face pops onscreen.

You try for the 546th time to understand the mindest of a man who can play the game ‘rugby’. You will fail once again.

A rainy Friday will see you stay beneath sheets and call in sick to work. The rain will continue and you will drown beneath the sheets. Workmates will smile knowingly during your funeral.

SCORPIO:

You try to impress a date by taking her to a cave, plucking a spider from beneath a rock; and then, squeezing the arachnaid until it bursts – you whisper: ‘What a tanlged web we weave – when first we practice to decieve’. Your date will fail to exchange phone numbers at the end of the evening.

Your novel – The Mongolian Steppes Of My Father’s Dreams – will someday be heralded a ‘masterpiece.’ But that day will conincide with the sight of pigs gliding majestically across the sky of a cold day in hell.

SAGITTARIUS:

Mid-week will see you spitting on your hand during sex because you saw a thin German man doing it in a naughty film. Not knowing what to do next, you will attempt to hide the spit beneath the nearest pillow – BUT THIS WILL END IN DIVORCE.

You will recieve the amazon.com Doctor Who box set in Friday’s mail. One minute into watching it you realise it’s a bland mess and wonder what all the fuss was about.

This coming Sunday you will cry unhindered for several hours .

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And that’s all me astrological musings for now. So until next time – hold on tight to your dreams – like what I am singing below.

Right chuffed with this tune I was…