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March 8, 2010 | by  | in Opinion | [ssba]

Uther Dean. Looks skyward. Sorts your shit.

Uther Dean. Looks skyward. Sorts your shit.

An upward glance to the stars fortells the events of the week starting 8th of March.


Oooh. Neptune dances a little ditty in your sun rays this week. This can only mean one thing. Piercing. Ears, that is. I know you’ve always been a little reticent about body modification. It just icks you out is all. Remember that time your half-sister showed everyone her neck tattoo of a spider dressed as a clown staring through a dark window in Bolivia? I mean, that was pretty messed up—like a drunk 12-year-old dancing in a pool of not-their-vomit on the deck of a boat dressed like a walrus—but you didn’t need to vomit.

And yes, it was the tattoo that made you all foody rewind, not “just having a little too much of the tipsy juice wink heh heh wink” as you became fond of telling everyone who’d listen. So, what this Neptunian jig across your solar disco is telling you is that you need to break out of this box of body safe in which you have body chained your soul. Take a tango to the holey man and get him to make you all ear punched. It will free you! It will free your soul! Also, your ears.

Everyone else

Get the fuck out of my way. Seriously. Look, not getting personal, but Mars has had a word in my ear and he says that at some point this week we are both going to be walking down the street and that you are going to stop for no apparent reason.Is it to tie your shoe? No, you’re gonna bend down says my Martian chum. Is it because you’re lost? No, intones Mars, they know where they’re going. So, you will have no reason to stop. On a crowded street. In the middle of the day. But you will. We will collide and it will be awkward. Like, really awkward. Like that time you walked in on your parents shaving your pet dog Tawny McButterface to make him look like a freak animal (or “freanimak”) for the Gods and Mobsters-themed fancy dress party they were attending that day.

Why will it be awkward? Because I warned you. Look, I put this shit in print. You will stop. We will collide. I will have no choice but to get you all face smash while reminding you that I reminded you NOT to do that. Reminding you with my fists. So, listen, Mars says it, I say it, when you are walking the streets, do not stop moving. Not even at crossings.


About the Author ()

Uther was one of the two arts editors in 2009. He was the horoscopier and theatre writer in 2010. Alongside Elle Hunt, Uther was coeditor in 2011.

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