Crystal Baws: November 2017 Horoscopes
Our resident astrologist Mystic Mark returns with his November horoscopes
You don’t understand why they need to use microscopes down the fertility clinic; you’ve been injecting your spunk into eggs for years without the need for any magnification.
You incorporate your new business strategy of Power Laughing at work to great effect. Everyone is silent when you Power Laugh in meetings, you can feel a mixture of respect and admiration for your enormous booming business laughter.
Although you’ve occasionally had to put up with voices in your head, this month you begin to hear voices in your arse.
Your MP replies to your letter thanking you for your suggestion but they point out that the difficulties facing the NHS can’t be solved by simply building a giant super hospital where the doctors are robots, the beds are on conveyor belts and giant lasers zap all the diseases away or something.
Like the lion, you are unable to get that extension on your overdraft you so sorely need.
This month you invent a time machine business with the intent of flytipping all our rubbish and carbon emissions into the past, finally solving all of our problems for good.
Sticking an ice pop up your bum is a simple and tasty way to relieve the relentless itchy, burning sensation of haemorrhoids.
Buying all your food at Farmfoods over the last few years has thrown you into an illustrious category of species that can survive a nuclear holocaust. What disease can hope to win in a battle against a foe who consumed nothing but ‘cheese flavoured food slices’?
Try not to panic this month when you’re abducted by aliens, that’s just them taking you to the vet. No amount of scratching at the walls will change the fact you’re going to Venus to have your balls removed.
You drink so much it’s unclear whether it’s pregnancy or a beer belly. You’ll know in time I suppose.
This month after a bout of religious guilt you decide to undo all your wanks. Fortunately, the action of putting them back in is precisely the same.
Your white blood cells locate another Jesus deep in your lymphatic system, sneaking around in a duct masquerading as nutrients. Like a Roman legion your trusty white blood cells corner him on his way to the brain, surrounding him until he is safely dissolved.