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  • JSCHAUM111@aol.com
    WOSSNAME -- NOVEMBER 2006 -- PART 4 OF 5 ... oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo (14) YOUR NEW DISCWORLD HOROSCOPE (continued) by Lady
    Message 1 of 1 , Dec 1 8:50 AM
      WOSSNAME -- NOVEMBER 2006 -- PART 4 OF 5

      (14) YOUR NEW DISCWORLD HOROSCOPE (continued)
      by Lady Anaemia Asterisk


      Herne the Hunted 22 May - 21 Jun

      BUGBEAR TO BEWHERE: Trihuga the Softener; the Heedless Horseman

      As Hernians, it's good that you're caring and sharing and sensitive
      to environmental issues (especially ones involving lots of teeth and
      a taste for innocent Hernians). But if you fall under the curse of
      Trihuga the Softener, you'll discover, to your woe, what "too much
      of a good thing" can truly mean - because Trihuga the Softener
      doesn't make your laundry fluffy and fresh-smelling, oh no; he does
      that to your brain! You'll find yourself espousing every crackpot
      cause, every well-meaning-but-ridiculous lifestyle, every faddish
      cult in the book (and some that have quite rightly never been
      written there). Crystals? You'll buy a quarry-load. Animal rights?
      You'll be right there in Sator Square, shouting "CRUEL TO SCORPIONS,
      PATRICIAN OUT OUT OUT!" and having your particulars taken by the
      Watch. Water-saving? You'll be the one who refuses to bathe for a
      year (and having your entire self taken by the Watch for creating a
      public nuisance). There's one born every minute, and if Trihuga gets
      his way, it could be YOU.

      The Heedless Horseman is a more physical sort of monster, but no
      less a sower of discord. An Elemental disguised in vaguely human
      (plus equine) form, the Heedless Horseman is the evil force that
      causes crop circles, trampled fence and unexplained stampedes and is
      the bane of sheepdogs trials and wrecker of military tattoos and
      municipal parades. Whenever a coachman swerves to avoid "some crazy
      bugger, just tore right past me, you'd think he never heard of
      brakes" and the crazy bugger can't be found, you know the Heedless
      Horseman has struck again. String piano wire across your gates and
      never farm unarmed, and you might just avoid him. Bewhere!

      The Wizard's Staff and Knob 22 Jun - 22 Jul

      BUGBEARS TO BEWHERE: Old Man Tribal; Tah-Beh Loyud

      Old Man Tribal, a cousin of Hoki the Jokester, loves family
      gatherings. Specifically, he loves to demonically compel all those
      upsetting relatives you never wanted to see again, never ever, to
      attend your most select family gatherings and make absolute donkeys
      of themselves. That time Uncle Gurgury accidentally hanged himself
      from the chandelier whilst attempting to imitate competition Rim
      divers at your sister's wedding? - no prizes for guessing who was
      behind that! Old Man Tribal also infamously foments family arguments
      at holiday times, leading to broken marriages, broken china and
      broken heads. The only ways to avoid a visit from Old Man Tribal are
      1) stay single (though you'll have to move out of Mum's house),
      2) become a hermit, 3) try your hand at extended polar exploration,
      or 4) make serial killing your new hobby and start your practice
      close to home. That last option tends to be a bit messy though.

      And if you catch the attention of the snoopsome Tah-Beh Loyud, also
      known as the Goss Whisperer, those family mishaps won't be confined
      just to your own neighbourhood; they'll be reported in The Times,
      complete with every cringemaking detail...or more likely in whatever
      scurrilous "newspaper" the Dibbler Media Group publishes in any
      given week, with cringemaking details that never happened but which
      the reading public will find all too believable. Of course, if fame
      at any price is your goal in life, try Option 4 (above). Bewhere!


      Bilious, God of Hangovers 23 Jul - 23 Aug

      BUGBEARS TO BEWHERE: P'Hulu of the Sewers; Modzilla

      P'Hulu, tentacled monster of the urban deeps, was once thought to be
      an Elder God from the endlessly black, endlessly cold, strangely
      oblong-shaped Space Between the Multiverses, but has now been
      identified as the only survivor of a lesser species of demon from the
      Dung Dimension (note spelling). No less horrible for having been
      reclassified, though, P'hulu reifies the collected spirit residue of
      every bad meal you've ever eaten twice, every projectile hangover
      you've ever experienced, every bag of rubbish you ever forgot to put
      out before going on your summer holidays and all the less fragrant
      by-products of the duties of new parenthood, and brings them to you
      in full-colour nightmares with added SmellSurround. Not a lot else
      to say, is there? Eww. As if your life as a Bilian isn't already
      a world of noisome misfortune. You might want to pick a less
      colourful Sign to be born under in your next life!

      The victims of Modzilla tend to find themselves in an unfortunate
      situation: not only do they experience a compulsion to dress in
      whatever passes for the latest fashion, but they also can't help but
      behave like sulky, rebellious teenagers...rather like the average
      wizard, really, only with more leather and sharper-toed boots. If
      you're touched by the claws of Modzilla, you will find yourself
      purposelessly hanging around street-corners, trying to turn your
      childhood wagon into a Brindisian-designed scooter, and gathering
      at the seaside for crumbles- um, rumbles. And refusing to clean your
      room. Rather like the average wizard, really. Bewhere!


      Mubbo the Hyena 24 Aug - 23 Sept

      BUGBEARS TO BEWHERE: the Blackbird of Uncertainty; Gothra

      The Blackbird of Uncertainty was hatched from the same egg as the
      Bluebird of Happiness, and is thus known as the Ectoplasmic Avian
      Evil Twin. This incorporeal monster, recognised only by the flap of
      its unvisible wings, bestows foreboding, poor self-esteem, untimely
      attacks of philosophy and general existential dreeed upon even the
      most formerly blithe and untroubled; its victims have been known to
      abandon prosperous careers in favour of long, fruitless quests for
      the meaning of life (a tragic waste, as the answer can be obtained
      from any passing History Monk in exchange for a cup of buttered yak
      tea and a bag of chips, or from Mrs Cosmopilite for five dollars and
      thruppence), or to waste crucial consolidation-of-kingship time on
      musings about whether or not to be (a tragic waste, as the musers
      often find that the only answer is "not to be", delivered by a long
      pointy sword belonging to someone else). The only known antidote is
      scumble. Lots of scumble. Which ultimately delivers the same end...

      Gothra, a low-budget Agatean monster, can often be found hanging out
      with the Blackbird of Uncertainty at celestial shopping precincts.
      Gothra's dreaded touch turns victims into a physical copy of itself
      - pale-faced, slump-shouldered, dressed in ragged black garments and
      sporting black or deep purple eyeliner, lipstick, nail varnish and
      hair dye - and causes an addictive desire to lurk in dark social
      clubs listening to lugubrious music and playing Hex games. A
      visitation from Gothra can be terribly distressing if you happen to
      be a community leader or rosy-cheeked grandmother...or, worst of all,
      a witch. Bewhere!


      The Small Boring Group of Faint Stars 24 Sept - 23 Oct

      BUGBEARS TO BEWHERE: the Fourecksian Yobbi; the Eater of Sooks

      The Fourecksian Yobbi can be found in pubs. Or around pubs. Or asleep
      in the gutters outside pubs, sometimes stacked six deep. An active
      Yobbi (in its relatively harmless sessile state, it sits around
      watching sport, muttering about sport, or playing the ancient
      Fourecksian game Poh-Qiiz) will approach you sidelong muttering its
      feared cry of "Gissapint!"; if you are foolish enough to heed it,
      you'll soon be broke, brain-dead and suffering from terminal liver
      disease. Demonologists disagree as to whether the Yobbi is sentient,
      as its speech consists only of "Maaaaaaaate!", "Gissapint!" and
      "Aaaw, Warnie! Maaaaaaaaate!", but with much patience and cruelty a
      Yobbi can be trained to shear sheep. Or so it's said - no-one
      attacked by a Yobbi has ever stayed sober enough for long enough to
      attempt it.

      The Eater of Sooks has a taste for Boring'uns, oh yes it does. While
      its natural victims are Mubboons, it is a voracious demon that will
      always go for timid, wet, unadventurous types, so Boring'uns bewhere!
      Avoid sulking in corners, because the Eater of Sooks will get you.
      Avoid sitting quietly in libraries, because the Eater of Sooks will
      get you. Avoid safe clerical jobs in cosy cubicles, because the
      Eater of Sooks will get you. And bewhere especially, because the
      Eater of Sooks often disguises itself as a stern headmaster, grumpy
      spinster librarian, leader of a Scout troop or fire-breathing boss.
      I'd say you have a problem...bewhere!

      End of Part 4, says my computer -- continued on Part 5 of 5
      If you did not get all 5 parts, write: jschaum111@...

      [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
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