Coddlescopes
Aries (Mar 21 – Apr 19)
Stop trying to satisfy everyone else’s expectations. You must learn to feel comfortable in your own skin. If the cannibalistic serial killer who’ll soon be wearing you as a suit can do it, why can’t you?
Taurus (Apr 20 – May 20)
Saturn aligns with Jupiter this weekend, giving you heart burn. It’s time to put your finances in order. Money is scarce, and you can no longer justify keeping a fully-grown African Rhino tethered in your back garden. Take him to the local park, unleash him, and walk casually away whilst whistling nonchalantly.
Gemini (May 21 – Jun 21)
Be more assertive. If you don’t ask, you don’t get. A mysterious stranger bombards you with flattery this week. Unfortunately, it’s only to distract you while his associate hot wires your car. Adding insult to injury, they needlessly run you over during their getaway, breaking both your legs. The same men return to steal your wheelchair, but I’ll cover that in the next month’s Coddlescopes.
Cancer (Jun 22 – Jul 22)
Saturn begins its fourth lunar cycle, playing havoc with your nasal hair growth. A colleague makes romantic overtures. Now is the time to reciprocate. What have you got to lose? You’ll both be dead in 24 hours anyway, having eaten from the same contaminated canteen stew.
Leo (Jul 23 – Aug 22)
Don’t dwell on the negativity of others. Now is the time to be more assertive. Your get-rich-quick scheme runs aground upon mounting suspicion that your belt is lined with Frankfurters, not TNT. Killing hostage after hostage does temporarily rekindle your aura of menace, but also forces the hand of the Gardai sharp-shooters. Rarely has the term ‘closed casket’ fit more snugly.
Virgo (Aug 23 – Sep 22)
Relaxation is key. Switching off is something you struggle with. An old flame returns unexpectedly this week, preaching reform and asking for a second chance. Do not be fooled. This is the same head case who doused you in petrol and set you alight, for failing to put a coaster beneath your drink. As you remonstrated at the time, there are no coasters in MacDonalds.
Libra (Sep 23 – Oct 23)
Mercury crosses the path of Mars this week, bringing you an unmerciful dose of the shits. Charity always begins at home. Luckily for you, your home will be bulldozed by the council in a case of mistaken identity (the 9 on your front door loosens and swings upside down into a 6). Living rough will be a novelty during the summer months, but you’ll quickly succumb to the elements by mid-autumn.
Scorpio (Oct 24 – Nov 21)
Now is a time for reflection. A friend betrays your confidence, passing your secret to a third party. The third party being a cop, and your secret being a family imprisoned in your basement, does not make your friend any less of a squealer. And you know what must be done with squealers, right? The shovel and the hacksaw are in the shed, behind the paint pots. And for God’s sake wear gloves this time.
Sagittarius (Nov 22 – Dec 21)
Opportunity knocks, and Cupid pays a visit this week. Play your cards right and wedding bells might beckon. A Royal Flush should be enough to secure the whole pot, including the Filipino bride. Beware though: the southern gentleman to your left is counting cards, and the greasy shark opposite has a dodgy ace taped to the underside of his chair.
Capricorn (Dec 22 – Jan 19)
Caution is paramount. Greeting obstacles head-on is not always the right approach. Particularly when you’re sprinting along a set of train tracks. Mercifully, you’ll side-step the 4:10 from Dublin and come away with little more than a grazed hip. It’s the 2:05 from Galway coming the opposite direction that’ll really catch you by surprise, grinding you into a gloopy, viscous paste.
Aquarius (Jan 20 – Feb 18)
Beware false prophets. You have a tendency to over-trust. A businessman comes to you with a financial proposition this week. Selling him your kidney brings you short-term riches and a heady lifestyle. Selling him your liver, heart and lungs exposes your appalling ignorance of human anatomy.
Pisces (Feb 19 – Mar 20)
Orion is visible in the North sky this month, meaning you have eighteen seconds to live. Put your house in order, sooner rather than later. Though your death certificate will ultimately read ‘Swine Flu’, this is a clerical error. ‘Swine food’ would be more accurate, given that you are choking on a rasher as of…wait….wait for it….NOW.
Swe.Ge is a libra. Fearing homelessness, I’ve left him. Just to be safe, like. Can I move in with you, Flann?
I’ll bring popcorn?
You absolutely can move in with me Sweary. But in the spirit of full disclosure, I have to let you know that I have a live, untrained cougar loose in the house, for reasons I won’t bore you with. It’s not too bad. He mainly sticks to the west wing of the house, and I to the east. We’ve really only crossed paths a couple of times. On those occasions though, I was severely mauled.
I’m sure the popcorn will placate him. Fear not.
Well, both my Sun Sign and my Rising Sign were dead on.
Well worth the money I paid.
I do boast a 100% accuracy Fat Sparrow. I’ve yet to come across anybody who claims they didn’t die when I said they would. Not one.
How right you are Sweary. Everybody knows that cougars turn to poodles in the presence of popcorn. Richard Attenborough dedicated a whole series to the culinary Achilles Heals of would-be predators.
For example, crocodiles can be pacified with a common Chomp bar (or at a stretch, a Smiley bar). Anacondas can be teased into releasing their death grips with waffles (specifically, Birds Eye). And killer whales become regular whales when tantalised with Baked Alaska.
Hola Flann–
Which star sign am I? I cannot see “Catholic” anywhere.
What is my future portending?
Besos
Manuel
I believe your Catholic God would take a very poor view of this kind of witchcraft Manuel. They’d rank it right up there with Harry Potter as joint public enemy number one of The Vatican.
Uncanny! how do you do it?? always carry a beer mat in my back pocket now.
A very sound idea Galwaywegian. Government statistics show that coaster-related homicides have increased year-on-year, since the first recorded ‘coastacide’ in 1976. 95% of all homicides in Ireland last year — gangland or otherwise — were spurred from an unsightly circular mark left upon a proudly-kept timber surface.
I really hope I don’t get smushed to shite by a train from Galway. If that happens you’re going to be incredibly red faced when the fuzz come questioning.
Also when I drag my mangled ghostly form off the tracks, I’m coming to haunt your ass, cougar or no cougar.
That’s the problem with being a flawlessly accurate soothsayer. You’re constantly being questioned for murder.
Also, bare in mind Maxi, when I say ‘cougar’, I really mean ‘leopard’. 3% more vicious, in my book.
So, should I reverse something or is all this accurate for us on the opposite side of the puddle?
Just to be safe I’m off to find a hammer and nail for the 9 on my door…wait..or is that a 6?
As a Virgo, I find the crispy bits that fall off my arms post-burning make handy coasters when I’m on the go. They’d probably distract any cougars/ leopards too.
Unfortunately Wendy, there is nothing you can do to alter your destiny, as prescribed in the Coddlescopes. It’s very much like that film ‘Final Destination’.
For example, should you wilfully avoid living rough and succumbing to the elements, faith will likely put a box jellyfish in your toilet bowl, or have the Mir station fall to earth and land squarely on your head. ‘Space Station Falls to Earth — local woman crushed’, will read the headline.
As I always tell Coddlescope readers, though there’s nothing you can do to avoid what I’ve foretold, I’d appreciate it if you act surprised when it happens.
Govstooge, nobody is debating the usefulness of post-burn, crispy arm flakes. Coasters are just one of the many applications of arm flakes. Others would include makeshift fans, blinkers for horses, and nourishing snacks for Goths.
But the issue is whether the initial burning is consensual. Both the burnee and the burner need to be on board…if you catch my drift (which I don’t).
Thanks for the heads up, Flann. ..or not heads up, if I am to be surprised of the impending events as required.
I suppose everyone could say “they heard it here first”.. or “I told you so” would suffice also.
I can live with that.
No problem Wendy. Honestly, coddlescoping is more a pleasure than a chore. Nothing — and I do mean, nothing at all — pleases me more than foretelling someone’s death. Everybody craves to know when they’re going to die, so it’s a rich, untapped market for a weaver of prescience like myself (and to a lesser extent, Uri Gellar).
My star sign is missing Flan? Was it something I said ?
Ah, I presume you were born on a leap year’s February 29th Sniffle, making your star sign the mighty platypus? Would it surprise you that I forecast death on your horizon? Not horrible, blindingly painful death, but still…
hi flann..
its a pleasure to be talking to you agian.. shamone mutha fucka..
as an aquarius i must point out that i think youv got your months wrong.. heeee huuuu… i had a very nice sales man call to neverland last month and as you know im a bit short of money (thanks for the loan) beat it beat it… and i was talked into parting with all my vital organs… heee huuuu.. with the promise of a hefty price… but as you know things went wrong and im now dead.. bummer ay.. heeeee huuuuu.. and to pour salt on the wound ebay wont let him sell them so there worthless… so im pretty much passing the book of blame to you flann.. a month out means alot..
ps bubbles says hi..
micheal jackson….
hhhheeeeeeeeeee hhhhhhuuuuuuuuuuuuu
The Ghost of Wacko Jacko, you remind me of someone. A musician, I think. You’re not Ronan Keating are you? Or Dana?
You forgot Arachne, the fabled 13th sign…whose omission from the current zodiac has a long story attached to it, which escapes me for now…
I deliberately sidestepped Arachne Swe.Ge. Anybody born within that particular zodiac’s narrow window, does things to horses that would have no business in an equestrian setting, if you catch my drift.
Don’t believe me? Leave an Arachne alone in a room with a DVD of Black Beauty for 5 – 10 seconds, and I guarantee you they’ll be into their nip and tugging away at themselves. Sickening it is.
no flann its me billy jean himself.. i know i promised you a shot on bubbles years ago for that donation you made to the kiddie ghost train in neverland.. maybe this is why you pretend to know not of me.. heeee huuuuuu… or would it be that court case i tried to rope you into with the kiddie fiddle chargers… anyway.. i forgive you.. heal the world etc etc…
love you an adopted white child..
michael jackson…
I’m dead now?
Does that mean I can get my death insurance cashed in?
Absolutely B. If you’re dead, then it’s all legal and above board. You might want to make sure you’re definitely dead though.
I recommend asking a trusted friend to dismember your corpse. The last thing you want is to somehow ‘revive’ a day or two from now and find yourself landed with an insurance fraud charge. Whereas if you’re a headless, limbless torso, the law can’t touch you.