On December 11th, 1922, a huge black bat dropped out of the sky and left a smoldering crater upon impact. Emerging from the smoke was none other than Vampira, fully formed and ready to present herself to the public as a mistress of the dark, put on this earth to provide ghoulish puns and introductions to bad televised horror films in the 1950s.
Her fame might have been fleeting, according to this Wikipedia entry, but her legacy is eternal. She was an inspirational figure to anyone who has ever loved dangerously arched fake eyebrow lines and a waist that is so small that it defies logic and reason. Her waist, supposedly seventeen inches around, belongs in a Lovecraft story that loves to not-describe the indescribable geometries of things which are cursed. Her waist could bring on madness, and that is what happened to me after I saw a random simple picture of her today, which I will draw for your amusement so that I am not infringing on a photographer’s copyright. I am not exaggerating her angles in any way.
Vampira! How! Did you not have organs? Could you eat? Inside, were you simply a few scoops of sawdust and faux-Satanic prayers? Whatever the cause and whatever the circumstances, hearing that she had a seventeen inch waist caused me (in a fit of insanity) to measure the Captain, who, with his twenty-one inch barrel, would split her precious black garments if he tried to wear them. The Captain is bigger around than at least one adult human woman who has existed, and I told him that to his face. I measured him, and told him that while drowning out his meows requesting kibble. And there is the story of how I wound up drawing the dumbest thing I have drawn all year.
It’s the goddamn future! We were expecting a lot of cool things, but all I ever hear is where are our jetpacks and where are the hoverboards? Well I want some other stuff, I have no intention of flying around. I want things that make life actually easier! I want my instant gratification to be more than instant! Struggling and hard work should be part of the tedious, awful past! We have things to do that we would rather have finished long ago. Chores are antiquated. Effort is so old-fashioned.
Let’s get down to business. And by that I mean you should start a business and please make these for me.
Get ready for some crazy zany holiday antics happening this December! The Full Moon in Gemini on the third is urging us to speak the truth about something we have been talking from both sides of our mouths about for some time now, but on that same day Mercury (planet of communication) goes retrograde and urges us to keep a lid on it because someone will without a doubt be offended somehow. The best way to deal with these conflicting energies is to live by the Golden Rule and pick your battles carefully. That’s what I’m going to do! That Mercury Retrograde goes from the 3rd to the 22nd so tread lightly through that time and let us not forget a great rule of thumb is to consider ten days before and after a retrograde. Dang! You still have to live your life. So knowledge is key in order to work with the cosmic flow so you don’t find yourself discouraged from getting knocked down by it. Have back up plans. Mercury Retrogrades can be a beautiful time for reunions and catching and making up with others that we were on the outs with for a bit. On the 18th there is a New moon in Sagittarius, which is a great time to have some light-hearted fun with new friends who just wanna laugh and cut up a bit.
King of Cups is coming in for most signs. This makes me think that maybe we need to be especially sensitive with how we are speaking and walking our Truths. Not that one should extinguish their personalities so others are more comfortable and tolerant, but more so that we are civil and compassionate of others stories as well. It would be wise to be especially vigilant during emotionally charged discussions.
As always, consider your Moon and Rising sign in addition to your Sun. What comes through for each sign is general. If you wish to have a more personalized reading, please hit my name in the sidebar which should take you to my Etsy shop or message me on my FB page Tarot By Tonyana.
Let’s hop into the December Scopes!
You are all familiar with the hit Netflix show Stranger Things, right? That wonderful show has really cheered me up and given me hope for humanity, despite the Demogorgon and the Shadow Monster. Lately in my car I have been rocking out to Depeche Mode, which makes me think of the ‘80s, which of course is when Stranger Things take place. I got to thinking, “what if each ST character had a DPM theme song?” I think it could happen.
We have a lot of fears. Some make sense; others, not so much. This latter type will be featured once monthly until we run out of material, at which point, we might begin accepting the fears of our readers.
Let me clear something up, immediately. I am not a crazy survivalist type who stores up rations and first aid kits and jugs of water because I believe that there is an impending Dooms Day at hand. I am not afraid that there will be some huge world war, or nuclear holocaust, or what else is there — Armageddon? The Rapture? Whatever. None of that is anything that preoccupies my mind very much.
However, whenever I consider maybe going in for some treatment, as many of my friends and acquaintances do, as many friends actually recommend that I try out, I get a very real fear that if I do so, if I give in and just seek outside help, then the world as we know it will swirl down the drain and we will be living in a nightmarish post-apocalyptic situation where it’s every man for himself and all prescriptions will stop. So all of the medicated people will lose it, either physically or mentally or both. And I am not like “I want to keep my wits sharp!” I’m just like, if I got used to relying on mood stabilizers, I think it would be even more difficult to manage things in that situation. Sorry I can’t restructure society into something that is hopefully better, because my body is dealing with withdrawal and I can only sleep in this hollowed out log with a scrap of a blanket and cry. I mean, I probably will be doing exactly that, but I want it to not be because I am having medical withdrawal symptoms. Those somehow sound scarier and worse than what I’m used to.
I think this concern makes a lot of sense! But I guess in the back of my mind, it does seem slightly dramatic. And maybe like I’m making excuses. But I’d rather not cause end of the world just because I was too tired to go on like I am. Maybe you all should be thanking me!
Hold up, everyone. We’ve got a brand new celebrity on the scene! We are excited and very pleased to announce that finally, FINALLY, we can brag that we knew a superstar before they were known. Finally, someone we know has risen from rags to riches (eventually riches, we assume). From the streets, abandoned, from NOTHING, this lady has become the toast of New York City, probably. Laika has made it.
If there’s one thing we can count on humanity for, it’s us doing what we think is best for us at the moment no matter what. For example, studies show that two-thirds of all automobiles in junkyards have worn-out horns but blinker bulbs that have never been used. In fact, no turn signal bulbs have been manufactured in the United States since 1961; they’re just pulled from scrapped cars and put directly into new ones. The cockroaches that shall inherit the Earth from us in about five years will still be using them in their vermin wagons.
Many people, estimates vary from approximately 1 to 99 percent, believe in some form of spirituality. This can take many forms, from collecting weapons-grade scented candles to replacing the exhaust system on your lifted full-size crew cab pickup with devices that make the engine louder and spew black smoke like a violently deadlocked papal conclave. The Romans believed in a single specific god for just about each and every specific element of their lives, because they stole it from the Greeks. So I’m stealing it from the Romans, because the Greeks gave us pitas . Here are some of the gods who help us through modern life. The previous list can be found here.
Mark Twain was born on November 30th in the year 1835. His name then was Samuel Clemens but he obviously changed it at some point. According to this documentary I watched about him once, he had an exciting life and a complicated personality. I encourage you to go on ahead and learn more about him for yourself. He was also a humorous man, and if anything happened in the world, the newspapers would ask him for his opinion, because he was pretty good about only speaking in quotable soundbites. Later, people would gather these quips into quote books, so that we could always learn from his eternal, universal wit and wisdom. Also, he wrote books and stories.
I was made to read a few of his books in school — I assume we all were. And I really hated Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. I know it was “important” for a bunch of reasons, but I hate books written more or less phonetically. It was a pain. I don’t remember anything about it aside from how much I couldn’t stand how river people of the 1850s spoke. I can see how it was so amazing, or whatever, that he represented people from all classes and how they spoke, but I just couldn’t take it! Anyway, there have been a couple of short stories that I HAVE particularly enjoyed. One is “The Facts Concerning the Recent Carnival of Crime in Connecticut” and the other is The Mysterious Stranger.
Hello my sneer friends. Recently I went through an eye-opening and scary time, and I wanted to share some of my experience with you. My hope is that anyone who finds themselves in a similar situation will be prepared if this ever happens to them.
I’d been watching the Gordon Ramsey-led reality television show “Hotel Hell.” The sound of an Englishman yelling at people for keeping a refrigerator full of beetles or for making a placenta mural in the foyer really brings me down and gets me to a place where I’m ready to sleep at night. Sometimes in my dreams Gordon is riding a giant horse, and he trots up to the field where I take my picnics, and he showers me with warm beef wellingtons. The crust hits my cheeks with an audible crunch and I beam with pride at my famous man pastry cow circles.
Then it happened. One night, unable to quite make my way through an episode, I paused the show, to continue later.
A startling visage now lay before me – I knew it was human but there was something wrong – a feeling deep in my spine, a tingle in my feet and a sense of dread rolled through me all at once. If this frame of the show really belonged here, what could possibly happen next?
Our cats are tricksters, escape artists, bold, too smart or too stupid. This is not to say that our cats are different than other cats. They are all pretty much the same. They are less like pets and more like shiftless roommates, forever late on the rent and refusing to clean up after themselves. We provide illustrated guides to them, once monthly.