Loading ...
Sorry, an error occurred while loading the content.

WOSSNAME -- May 2007 -- Part 6 of 6

Expand Messages
  • Not A Granny
    WOSSNAME -- APRIL 2007 -- PART 6 OF 6 (continued) ... oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo ====Part 6 - HOROSCOPE - Section 4 - AND EDITORIAL 13)
    Message 1 of 1 , May 27, 2007
    • 0 Attachment
      WOSSNAME -- APRIL 2007 -- PART 6 OF 6 (continued)
      ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
      oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

      ====Part 6 - HOROSCOPE - Section 4 - AND EDITORIAL

      13) THE NEW DISCWORLD HOROSCOPE - DEC->MAR
      14) EDITORIAL: AND IT'S GOODNIGHT FROM HIM

      %%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

      Hoki the Jokester 22 Dec - 20 Jan
      THINGS THAT DON'T LIKE YOU: Looms; Printing Presses

      For Hokians, "loom in the room" spells doom and gloom. Your happy
      times it will consume; you'll feel you've played both sides at Koom.
      Given your exit-date from womb, you mustn't tangle with a loom! Your
      shuttle will scuttle, for which there's no rebuttal; if you meddle
      with a treadle, you'll suffer from your rigid heddle, whilst your
      warp and weft leave you bereft and you'll truly be knackered by your
      jacquard - I believe if you weave you'll wax wroth at your cloth.
      Raise you not a weaver's banner; heed your stars - become a tanner!

      I must confess, a printing press sticks Hokians in a pretty mess; the
      - hold on an astrolabe-tossing minute! Why is this Horoscope entry
      rhyming at every turn? How strange. Now, where was I...there are up
      to 3,026 moving parts in a printing press, and for Hokians, any (or
      every) one of these exists in a state of imminent breakdown. Since
      the natural state of a printing press is one of imminent breakdown,
      mixing Hokians and printing presses is a non-starter. Most often,
      literally. And "literally" has to do with letters, and letters are
      the reason for the existence of printing presses. Stick with quills
      and paper; they have no moving parts.

      %%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

      The Rather Large Gazunda 21 Jan - 18 Feb

      THINGS THAT DON'T LIKE YOU: Stringed Instruments; Sonkies

      The course of true love rarely runs smooth, especially for
      Gazundians, and certain Made Things are the reason why. Where would
      romance be without the lute or the lyre? (...or for that matter the
      liar, but that's another story.) Many a young swain has wooed the
      latest (in a long line) of his true loves by melodiously plucking
      the strings of a mandolin, dulcimer or bouzouki, but pity the poor
      Gazundians who, when fighting for the hand of a maiden fair, have
      to fight not just other suitors, fathers, brothers and sometimes
      husbands but also their own stringed instruments.

      And it's not just male Gazundians who suffer badly in the lists of
      love. The ladies do, too - and I don't mean because they have to
      listen to the discordant caterwauling of a lovestruck amateur
      musician. What happens after the music stops is, after all, the
      important bit, and for those ladies who don't wish to be seeking the
      services of a midwife some nine months after the walking-out that
      follows the caterwauling, Wallace Sonky's Best Rubber Preventatives
      are a Gods-send. But those of you born under the Sign of the Gazunda
      can expect more than your fair share of splits, holes, spills and
      diverf shall-we-say accidents. Plan ahead by stocking up on some of
      the more ...unlabelled ...herbal remedies - a dollar wisely spent
      beforehand can save you a fortune in nappy-laundering bills. It
      could be *not* you!

      %%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

      Lesser Umbrage 19 Feb - 20 Mar

      THINGS THAT DON'T LIKE YOU: Knives and Forks; Tin-openers; Writs

      It isn't the lack of hand-eye coordination or manual dexterity that
      causes Umbragians to accidentally poke a forkful of hot cabbage into
      their ears or spread butter over half the tablecloth - it's the
      astro-illogical antipathy of cutlery to those born under the Sign of
      Lesser Umbrage. Not all cutlery, mind you: just table knives and
      forks. An Umbragian who is all thumbs - and as Igors have long known,
      there's surprisingly little you can do with all thumbs - when cutting
      a baked potato or stabbing a sausage with a fork can turn into a
      virtuoso with a carving knife, oyster spear...or even chopsticks.

      Tin-openers are one of those devices that emit a low-level
      maliciousness field even at the best of times. Trying to open a tin
      is an experience not to be repeated if at all avoidable! You run the
      gauntlet of stabbing yourself with the blade, pinching your skin in
      the hinge, and, if the tin holds beetroot, you will surely end up
      spilling indelible red liquid over yourself. So have a moment of
      sympathy for the poor Umbragian, who not only has to deal with the
      usual maliciousness of the tin-opener but also with its horoscopical
      contrariness.

      Feegles have been known to run for three days straight at the mere
      mention of the word "writ", stopping only empty any glasses of booze
      they come across. And Feegles (Umbragians all, or nearly all, and
      those of you who've been paying attention know why) are not alone in
      this, oh no: all Umbragians have terrible trouble with writs, whether
      they (the Umbragian, not the writ) be plaintiff, defendant, witness
      or even just the poor functionary stuck with serving 'em. The best
      you can hope for is a nasty paper cut, but a more typical experience
      is that of the senior Alchemist Sincere Rampart (younger brother to
      Frank), who was called as a technical witness in a legal dispute over
      the meat content of C.M.O.T. Dibbler's Named Meat pies but ended up
      hanging upside-down in the Patrician's dungeon for Public Miming
      after a mix-up with the writ. Sic transit gloria Umbragii, which is
      Latatian for "you're hedgehogged!"

      ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo


      ... and there you have it. Please write directly to WOSSNAME

      at jschaum111@... if you have any questions and we will

      forward them directly to Lady Asterisk.

      ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

      14) FAREWELL

      Last but far from least, a sad announcement from our Publisher:

      I'm sorry to announce that my Congestive Heart Failure condition has
      worsened, despite doctors' assurances, and I just can't do WOSSNAME
      any more. I am passing the torch on to my dear friend and Managing
      Editor, Annie Mac, with the hope she can continue it.

      We've had a good run -- 10 years -- and we've never missed
      an issue. I hope Annie can keep it going, but to be quite
      honest, Annie's health is a bit shaky, too. So don't be too
      surprised if this turns out to be the last issue of WOSSNAME.

      Much love to all of you,

      Joe Schaumburger

      --------------

      STERCUS, STERCUS, STERCUS, PANICUS SUM!
      by Annie Mac

      I've known Joe for nearly seven years now, and he's become virtual
      family to my husband and me. Some three years ago, Joe asked me if I
      would cobble together a few monthly horoscopes after the reluctant
      departure of Lady Aranluc, "just until we find someone else..." As
      you all now know, Someone Else never arrived, and I've gradually
      had to take on sourcing or providing more and more of the monthly
      content. I'm going to do my best to continue publishing WOSSNAME,
      out of respect both for Joe and for the magical, masterful Mister
      Pratchett; Pterry's work has brought so much delight into my life
      for more than twenty years now, so the least I can do is to attempt
      to carry on singing his praises in our quirkily unique WOSSNAME way.

      If anyone out there in readership-land feels able to make even small
      monthly contributions, now would be a good time to volunteer! You
      can email interact@... with any articles, ideas, news and
      whatnot (wicker or otherwise).

      I'd also like to take this opportunity to express my thanks to the
      ever-vigilant Colin Smythe for providing us with all the latest and
      best Pterry-news. Long may this continue!

      All hail Joe, Elder God of the Bugarup University (Roundworld)
      Underwater Campus! I hope his retirement will help him to extend
      the length of his "I Aten't Dead Yet!" years.

      All the best and pass me down that wizzarding hat,

      Annie Mac
      Nervous-as-Rincewind Editor-in-Chief

      ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

      -------------------------------------------------------------------------
      End of Part 6.
      If you did not get all six parts, write: jschaum111@...
      -------------------------------------------------------------------------
      Copyright (c) 2007 by Klatchian Foreign Legion
    Your message has been successfully submitted and would be delivered to recipients shortly.