Pisces
The domestic angle of your chart is receiving much planetary action this month and compromises are your forte. Which means you must get out there and be more assertive if you wish to avoid being a boring old fart.
Fate returns his door keys, but has bent them so they won’t fit any more.
Luck has changed the locks anyway.
Don’t Forget: to check the Rozzers aren’t about first.
Aquarius
Keeping an open mind is all very well, but your brain is starting to leak out of your ears. Keep it in by fashioning earplugs from candle wax and singing “The Locomotion” when people try to tell you things.
Fate has not rewound any of the videos he has returned.
Luck is trying not to mention it.
Don’t Forget: you should never pick your nose with a carving knife.
Capricorn
Jupiter is currently rampant, bringing with him a roller-coaster tidal wave of bile and out-of-date lighter fluid. You are gagging to pay someone lip service, but it may pay to be a little more probing first.
Fate comes bearing 1oz of butter and a litre of strawberry yoghurt.
Luck says he’d have preferred flowers.
Don’t Forget: to sterilise before putting them back in.
Sagittarius
Swapping the bow and arrow for that nice new pulse rifle may have seemed like a good idea at the time, but people keep staring at you when you polish it in public. Maybe the time is right to put the safety on.
Fate is brought to you by the letters G, Q and Z.
Luck guarantees a high score in Scrabble.
Don’t Forget: to find a concealed place for your weapon.
Scorpio
Sometimes a thing rears up that is far too hard when all you want to do is let it all wash over you. There’s nothing wrong with that attitude, but apathy butters no parsnips. Take matters in hand now and you should be able to relax later with a smile on your face.
Fate is considering a move to the country.
Luck is glowering and suggesting Israel.
Don’t Forget: Honey is just congealed bee spit.
Libra
Every time someone takes a photo, you don’t seem to be in it. You need to expose yourself far more often. There’s a nasty tendency towards sepia, but a good strong j-cloth should sort that out.
Fate suggests a side order of vegetables.
Luck has an amusing incident with a loo-block.
Don’t Forget: being taken from behind doesn’t count. Get your face in shot.
Virgo
Thanks to Neptune you’re far too sensitive at the moment, and there’s a damp patch on the carpet where he didn’t wipe his wellies. But never mind, your intuitive and enquiring nature will lead to some rewarding moments with a tube of epoxy resin.
Fate spins wildly out of control.
Luck says he’ll drive next time.
Don’t Forget: butter doesn’t suit its works.
Leo
The sun is crossing your pivotal point, and sending shivers up your left leg. Put an elastic band round the knee to stop it happening again.
Fate is represented by collapsed scaffolding.
Luck is having sharp words with your tailor.
Don’t Forget: if you have poor circulation, try sticky tape instead.
Cancer
Jupiter is usually the planet of expansion, but now he comes knocking at your door with chocolates of misinformation and tempting you with lard butties of mystery.
Fate wears a camel coloured coat.
Luck comes in the form of an old school friend.
Don’t Forget: to steer clear of any camels you didn’t go to school with.
Gemini
Mercury sidles up to your bedroom, so be prepared to prevent his premature entry. You may be inclined to lock the door and put a tripwire over the top step but be warned: he’s a slippery customer.
Fate comes wearing Inland Revenue underwear.
Luck would have it.
Don’t Forget: you may have hidden superglue in the KY.
Taurus
There is much activity in your sign this month as the warlike Mars enters Uranus, stirring things up no end. Exert some caution in your dealings – especially with venomous creatures like spiders, scorpions and gay solicitors.
Fate comes with a golden clasp on its handbag.
Luck is stuck at home doing the ironing.
Don’t Forget: that dreadlocks are most unseemly below the belt.
Aries
Clothing matters to you at the moment, so now is the time to shop. You’ll be drawn towards anything reasonable in men’s trousers so be more tolerant and less superficial. Perhaps Yoga could help – it worked for Geri Halliwell.
Fate comes wearing a Lycra boob tube.
Luck comes in the form of the death of a favourite relative.
Don’t Forget: to ignore Fate’s social faux pas.
Won’t the Women’s Institute sue?
The editors would like to stress that the two organisations depicted here are totally dissimilar to the Women’s Institute on many counts – not least because many of the members of that laudable institution are not possessed by demons, do not wield the occult like a baseball bat in a ghetto, and (unlike Ms. Zimmer) do not view death as an “optional extra”.
Have you changed the names?
For legal reasons we should point out that we have obtained the permission of the ladies concerned to publish these documents. Names have been changed, however, in order to protect the identities of those concerned (we hesitate to use the term “innocent” in any sentence regarding the activities of Miss Twigham and Ms. Zimmer).
Why is this of interest?
What we had unwittingly – not to mention, illegally – happened upon is,we are sure you’ll agree, a remarkable dialogue which provides even the most casual snoop with a fascinating insight into the mysterious world of the silver surfer. Equally it proves an interesting view of the activities of those groups whose membership almost entirely consists of “ladies of a certain age”.
We sincerely hope you find the correspondence as fascinating, diverting, and disturbing as we ourselves have done.
And you read it all?
At first we simply amused ourselves by reading several indignant attacks on the Times’ Crossword Compiler, but eventually we came across the missives to and from Ms. Rossington-Smythe.
Finding ourselves quite captivated by the strange new world presented before us, we sensed that we had stumbled onto an area of genuine interest and it was but the work of moments to obtain all existing writings and ensure that subsequent contact would be forwarded directly to our own accounts.
How did you find it?
The correspondence offered for your consideration herein first came to our attention one balmy evening in the summer of 2001 when, having gained server access to several financial institutions, one bakery and an amateur photographer, we accidentally found ourselves in the email account of Ms. Jodrell-Bentley.
What is this about?
It is merely an insight into the disturbing – and often fatal – activities of two organisations for “ladies of a certain age”: the Moorgate Guild of Classical Female Elders and the Pimlico League of Educated Ladies (formerly the Victoria Branch of the Penge Institute of Ladies of the Night).
Each chapter consists of a collection of correspondence between the chairpersons of said organisations as they plan future events, reminisce and commiserate about past encounters and attempt to minimise the level of fatality and chaos their meetings seem to result in.