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WOSSNAME -- May 2007 -- Part 4 of 6

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  • Not A Granny
    WOSSNAME -- APRIL 2007 -- PART 4 OF 6 (continued) ... oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo ====Part 4 - HOROSCOPE - Section 2 11) THE NEW DISCWORLD
    Message 1 of 1 , May 27, 2007
      WOSSNAME -- APRIL 2007 -- PART 4 OF 6 (continued)

      ====Part 4 - HOROSCOPE - Section 2



      Gahoolie, the Vase of Tulips 21 Apr - 21 May

      THINGS THAT DON'T LIKE YOU: Furniture; the Clacks

      Typical Gahooligans have scarred lower legs from barking their shins
      on furniture, scarred arms from barking their elbows on furniture,
      facial scars from falling over furniture, and often an ever-growing
      collection of plaster casts from limbs, hands, feet and whatnot
      broken as a result from contretemps with furniture. This is in no way
      a series of coincidences or even ordinary accident-proneness; no,
      furniture doesn't like you. If you ever thought an occasional table
      was more than occasionally lying in wait to cause you pain of the
      wood-on-soft-flesh variety, you were absolutely right! - and likewise
      if you thought that drawers were deliberately sticking just so that
      they could suddenly unstick, causing you to go posterior over
      hedgehog when you pulled hard on them. And kitchen tables? - don't
      talk to me about kitchen tables. I know your pain. Massive, frequent
      sacrifices to the Goddess Anoia are a partial solution, but for a
      less hazardous life you should give up furniture altogether, sleep
      and eat on the floor, and pile your clothes in assorted corners of
      the room like you always wanted to anyway.

      The Clacks is your other nemesis. While it won't cause immediate
      injury, you Gahooligans will most often be the ones who suffer as a
      result of missing, endlessly and mysteriously (and expensively)
      reduplicated, or confusingly - and sometimes dangerously - garbled
      messages: you know, when you send MUM SAID ALL FORGIVEN HOME IS BEST
      and it arrives as MOTHER DIED ALL FORSAKEN HOME IS LOST, or your
      pre-paid order for 6 bowls from Quirm gets you 60 owls from Wurmz
      (just be glad it wasn't 60 bowels; there's a branch of We R Igors in
      Wurmz). Stick with good old-fashioned Post Office letters or trained
      carrier pigeons!


      Herne the Hunted 22 May - 21 Jun

      THINGS THAT DON'T LIKE YOU: Ploughs; Swords

      Between you and me, I'd say you have a bit of a problem here. There's
      a good reason why most Hernians are shy, peaceful foragers, and these
      are it! Hernian farmers always find that their ploughs turn on them,
      that their furrows have more twists and turns than Empirical Crescent
      and that clods of earth (and ox or horse doings) unfailingly seem to
      hit them in the face when they're attempting to plough, even if their
      plough isn't connected to any beast of burden. Your best bet, if you
      insist on growing your own food, is to use a collection of large
      pots and be sure to sacrifice generously to the Summer Lady.

      As for swords, they'll break at inconvenient times (e.g. in the
      middle of defending yourself from barbarian hordes sacking your
      peaceful village), and you'll find you can never get a sharp edge on
      them except when they fall out of their scabbards onto your foot.
      And there's no point trying to turn your swords into ploughshares,
      either, because they'll bend when the tempering process is nearly
      complete (and put the blacksmith in a foul temper in the process).
      Sensible smiths always ask the Sign of any meek-looking customer
      bringing in a sword for recycling.


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

      THINGS THAT DON'T LIKE YOU: Roasting-spits; Laundry-mangles;

      For a Sign so noted for its love of fine food (and plenty of it), the
      practice of the art of cooking is surprisingly ill-starred. Staffies
      may love their hot roast dinners but actually trying to *make* them
      is an exercise in culinary disaster - Staffies plus roasting spits
      plus sizzling suckling pigs (or sheep, or sides of beef or yak or
      camel or...you get the idea) equal kitchen fires, the urgent need of
      skin grafts, and worst of all, roasts that are overcooked and
      underdone at the same time. If you must muck about in the kitchen,
      stick to jellies. Or those little sandwiches with the crusts cut off.
      Or salads.

      You also don't want to contemplate washing your own
      grease-and-BCBs-drenched clothing. If you're lucky, the
      laundry-mangle will chew your best apparel to pieces; if you're not
      so lucky, your arms will get the same treatment. According to the A-M
      Office of Counting Things, persons born under the sign of the
      Wizard's Staff and Knob are disproportionately susceptible to death
      by drowning in laundry tubs. Now you know why. Send you clothes out
      for washing, or take up Naturism.

      Spellbooks are not your friends. Even simple conjuring primers or
      household grimoires have a natural magickal ability to create discord
      in the fabric of the universe and must be used with care, but in your
      case using with care just means that that simple sock-washing spell
      (see? I told you to send your laundry out!) *probably* won't cause
      the Sun to explode. As the Wizard's Staff and Knob is the most
      prevalent Sign of those born to become high-level mages, this goes a
      long way towards explaining why senior wizards often seem so, um,
      differently abled when it comes to spellcasting.


      Bilious, God of Hangovers 23 Jul - 23 Aug

      THINGS THAT DON'T LIKE YOU: Stills; Glassware

      You just knew I was going to tell you that, didn't you? Being born
      under the Sign of Bilious, God of Hangovers, means you're destined to
      spend your life as an end user if you know what's good for you! Not
      that Bilians are known for knowing what's good for them - although
      they know volumes - yards - Nebuchadnezzars about what's bad for
      them, and do what's bad for them anyway. Trust me, your hung-over
      lives are already miserable enough without adding the miseries of
      trying to distil your own potable poisons. Operate a still and you'll
      experience more explosions than the average Alchemist's apprentice,
      more poisonous fumes than are seen in Unseen University's Potions
      class, more corroded metal than is normally found in Copperhead mine
      tailings...and if you get any results that produce alcohol rather
      than disaster, you can be sure that they're best used only for paint
      stripping. Play it safe and give your custom to the local wineshop,
      or at least to a home brewer born under a different Sign.

      Most people think Bilians make bad barmen because they drink more
      merchandise than they sell, but the real reason is that glassware
      doesn't like them. You Bilians know to your sorrow that beer glasses,
      whisky glasses, port glasses, brandy balloons, champagne flutes,
      cognac snifters, steins, tankards, shotglasses, Klatchian coffee
      thimbles and scumble tumblers have a habit of jumping off shelves and
      falling off bars and slipping out of hands whenever you're nearby.
      Optics crack, bottles fall over and even earthenware jars develop
      sudden tectonic instability (because earthenware is just glass that
      didn't make it to graduation). For that matter, more bar mirrors are
      shattered by the presence of Bilians than ever get broken in
      barfights. Wineskins all around for you lot!


      End of Part 4, continued on Part 5 of 6.
      If you did not get all six parts, write: jschaum111@...
      Copyright (c) 2007 by Klatchian Foreign Legion
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