Christmas Horoscopes With Earl Elderflower

It’s Christmas time, and there’s no need to be afraid, unless of course you’re a prize turkey waiting to be plucked, stuffed, roasted and dished up on a plate surrounded by pigs in blankets and hot potatoes. But putting that little ‘poultry’ matter to one side, it’s best not to dwell on the grim fate which awaits our little feathered friends every Yuletide. So why not join Earl Elderflower instead as he aggressively rubs his crystal ball and finds out exactly what the stars have in store for you this Christmas.

Merry Christmas stargazers. Remember, if you’re drinking don’t drive, don’t even putt!

Aries 

Rudolph the red nosed reindeer had a very shiny nose. And so to do you my little Aries.
Except yours has nothing to do with Christmas cheer and festive spirit, but more to do with the streams of Whiskey you were pouring down your greedy gullet like there was no tomorrow.
People with drink problems often thrive during the holiday season don’t they dear. It’s one of the few times of year it’s considered acceptable to blot out reality with a bottle under the all inclusive excuse of “getting into the spirit of things.” Except getting into the “spirit of things” with you involves slightly more than a few sherries and a mince pie doesn’t it my sozzled little sausage? Downing brandy by the bottle, gin by the gallon and lying bewildered and befuddled in a white dress stained with red wine, whilst crying into a half-eaten kebab beneath an artificial Xmas tree, was truly a pathetic sight Aries. I suggest next year you get less into the ‘spirit’ of things and more into the spiritual. Now do one and take the tinsel off on the way out you dozy little tart!

Taurus 

It will soon be the new year and a time of new beginnings my bewildered bull. So take that wretched, constipated look off your face and try and raise a smile you old hag. My old hog racing nemesis Sir Cliff of Richard once snarled at me in between bouts of chronic diarrhoea caused by ingesting grotesque amounts of Mistletoe and Wine, “Why Elderflower Why!” Did I answer his existential dilemma Taurus? Did I Hell, I just slowly walked away and left the petty prince of pop to fester in his own torrid puddle of filth and paranoia. That wasn’t very charitable of me was it I hear you cry! Well neither was the legion of festive number ones that Cliff has inflicted on our ears over the years. I hope this lovely winter’s tale of mine has warmed your heart and brought a ghost of a smile to those mean and narrow lips of yours. Yet somehow I doubt it. You’re so mean you make medicine sick my ill-tempered bovine brute. However, fear not, for there is a remedy at hand. I suggest you butcher a pig on the sabbath and eat it’s uncooked bladder in the light of the first full moon of the month and see if this improves your mood somewhat. Have a good one!

Gemini 

Last Christmas you gave him your heart didn’t you Gemini? And what did he do with it the very next day? Why he threw it away of course, alongside the stained bedding and empty bottles of Vodka. Next year, to save you from tears, I suggest you give it to someone special - like medical research perhaps! Only joking you old slapper! So don’t just sit their stewing in a broth of self-pity like a dour dumpling with nowhere to go. You’re far too sensitive for your own good and you need to develop some thick skin to go with that thick head of yours. As my old hairdresser Noddy Holder once roared at me before disappearing in a puff of blue smoke and leaving nothing but a small pork pie in his wake, “Mama we’re all crazy now!”  So what are you waiting for dear! Why sit there with a face like thunder when you can shine in the sun. Look to the future now it’s only just began little Gemini. But a word of caution my dear, if you are thinking of hanging up your stockings on a wall, just be careful to leave your knickers on, we don’t what a repeat performance of last year now do we.

Cancer 

It’s very much a case of sun, sea and sand for you this month Cancer. However, after you’ve finished drawling through the holiday brochures and dreaming of having enough money for a month in St Lucia, you may want to pull open the curtains and say hello to a little friend of mine called ‘Reality’. My local butcher who is incidentally a yank and used to go by the name of MC Hammer, once said to me whilst casually gutting a freshly butchered pig,  “Elderflower my man it’s all about keeping it real. I used to make the dollar through music, now I’m hustling a buck in the meat market.” Looking at him incredulously as he furtively popped a pig testicle in his mouth and yelled at me, “You can’t touch this!” I thought then what I am telling you now my little crab - some things are better left alone.    

                     

Leo

You must decide what you want this month Leo. The carrot or the stick. For someone whose star-sign is a proud lion you’ve been behaving a lot like a dumb donkey of late. I guess what I’m trying to say is, put down the microphone for god’s sake. You’re no singer. Your incessant braying is beginning to sound like an over-excited Gary Barlow - the mad mancunian tyrant whose dirge about ruling the world just makes me want me say “Take That!” as I throw a mug of chicken and mushroom cup-a-soup in his fat angelic face.You see Leo! You see what your attempts at singing do, it destroys a man’s equilibrium and leads him to commit rash acts. It’s time to shut up. The only amplification that would suit the torrid tones of your voice is a job as a train announcer on some deserted windswept platform. Now get off the mic wannabe!

Virgo

Keep an eye on your spending this month Virgo. My advice would be to let other people do it for you and save yourself the bother. Money is the root of all evil so why not wash your hands of it and live a pampered and luxurious life as a kept woman. If you can find someone rich fool willing to indulge your every whim, then maybe you should grab the opportunity before your looks fade and your youth is but a distant memory on the summer breeze. You’ve never been all that blessed in the brains department have we dear, but it’s all about maximizing your assets. So shake your booty and grab the looty while you still can. And if all else fails pole dancing pays well but the hours are a bit unsocial. Perhaps I’ll see you in the club. But just you remember dear, Earl Elderflower never tips, he just fulfils prophecies.

Libra 

Be careful the month Libra. People are watching you and monitoring your every word. They’re called the CIA and they don’t mess around. A tad worried are we dear? Well you certainly should be. Hacking into the Pentagon was not the best way to work off a roast dinner on a quiet Sunday afternoon. We are in a pickle aren’t we. It all seemed so innocuous at the time and a bit of a challenge to infiltrate their state of the art computer system didn’t it lovey. Well who’s laughing now? No-one except the Mad Hatter and he’s having a tea party in your honour you mad little moron. Will you choose to attend  I wonder or will you be somewhat indisposed in a maximum security federal prison on the other side of the pond.  Here come the men in black Libra and I’ve got a feeling they want to do a little more than dance.

Scorpio

If anyone tells you not to rock the boat this month Scorpio. Ask them why not? It’s probably because they are a cowardly character who couldn’t stand up to a light wind. My old cake baking buddy John Wayne once snarled at me whilst delicately adding the icing to a sponge, “Courage is being scared to death... and saddling up anyway. Now get on the damned horse and ride forth Earl.” Well, what do you think I did Scorpio? I jumped right on, yelled “giddy-up” and have been on the hard trail of the uncompromising and unforgiving path ever since. And if there’s one thing I’ve learnt it’s this, when some jumped up little toe-rag with a headful of hate and a mouthful of moan tries to lay down the law like a half-baked  despot, don’t just rock the boat, capsize it and clear out the deadwood.

Sagittarius 

A big mouth can get you into trouble but it can’t get you out. Your past is catching up with you fast this month Sagittarius, nipping at your heels like a vicious little Jack Russell and barking, “Hello! Remember me? I’m the thing you thought you abandoned in a plastic bag on the corner of Memory Lane.” It’s going to get ugly this month my dear. Forewarned is forearmed and you’ll need more than a couple of nuclear warheads to deal with the arsenal that disgruntled acquaintances are accumulating to attack you in the days ahead. You’ve played too many people off against each other for far too long and now payment is due my little puppet-master. At least one of your two-faces will have to square-up to the music this coming month Sagittarius and it won’t be pretty.

Capricorn

Are we watching the clock this month Capricorn? Time isn’t something to store away for a rainy day like a miser with his money you know. It’s something most of us use with wild abandon in a carefree and throwaway manner. You can’t invest the seconds of your present into a trust-fund for your future because the future is already here dumb ass and its just become the past, as you’re trying to make sense of these nonsensical lines.  My old choirboy mucker Bob Dylan one said to me as he was getting dressed in his finest frock for Sunday mass at St Mary’s, “Elderflower you unholy imbecile, what time is love?” Eyeing the tone deaf loser contemptuously, I snarled, “Shut it Zimmerman you talentless tart. The times the are a changing.” Now I’m giving the same advice to you this month my little goat. Shape up or ship out.

Aquarius 

Where do rainbows come from Aquarius? And where can I find the elusive pot of gold to keep the wolves from my door. I’m only asking because everything is a happy ending for you this month! But be warned, life is no fairy-tale my dear and as my old farmyard buddy Goldilocks once said to me inbetween ruthlessly snapping the necks of countless turkeys, “Elderflower, I lost the taste for happy-ever-afters at the same time I lost my taste for porridge. Those bears were brutal and gave me the sort of reality check I won’t ever forget.” Do you understand what Goldilocks was saying my friend? Life can be a bowl of cherries but all fruit turns sour and when it does it leaves a bitter taste in the mouth that’s hard to shake. Enjoy the good times while they last dear, because hell and all its hounds are always waiting just around the corner to pounce and tear you apart slowly, little by little and piece by piece.

Pisces 

As sure as night follows day, beauty must always walk before the beast Pisces, so if you wouldn’t mind holding that door open for me my fruity little fish, I’d me much obliged. “Where am I going dear?”  Well, as far away from you as possible lovey! Isn’t that blindingly obvious? “But I haven’t cast your horrorscope for the month?” Well boo hoo dear! Life’s a bitch hey? Well in the spirit of pity, let me leave you with a few choice words of advice. You see that thing slowly revolving around you? No! It’s not the world, it’s a dung fly dear.That’s what happens when you wallow in your own muck for too long. Honestly Pisces, of late you really have started to reek of the gutter. Addiction may be a glamorous accessory for the grotesque pantomime parade of the rich and famous, but for the likes of everyday folk Pisces, it’s like wearing a t-shirt with the slogan, ‘Don’t come near me I’m toxic filth’ written on it. Or even worse, it’s like being a Florence and the Machine fan - unexplainable, upsetting, unnecessary and best avoided. It’s time to clean up your act Pisces. I for one have had enough of this charade and suggest you make like my good friend Bo Beep and get the ‘flock’ out of here!

Can Hollywood Forgive Mel Gibson?

Once universally adored as the Hollywood ‘Braveheart’ with the Midas touch, Mel Gibson’s fall from grace and favor has been a painfully pathetic one to watch, but does the Aussie actor who has been slammed as a homophobic, misogynistic, racist drunk, really deserve a second bite of the A-List cherry? 

Jewish journalist Allison Hope Weiner certainly believes the ‘Passion Of The Christ’ director has been ‘crucified’ long enough for his past transgressions and has urged Hollywood to end their quiet blacklisting of the tormented thespian. 

Considering the the 58-year-old ‘Lethal Weapon’s’ notoriety as a holocaust denier, and his infamous drunken anti-Semitic rant to a police officer, this is a very forgiving attitude for Winer to adopt. 

The journalist believes the actor who has spent years battling the twin demons of  alcoholism and depression and who has been sober for the last seven has, “Spent enough time in the penalty box.'"

Writing for Deadline, the news-hound who once stood in a long line of hacks endlessly queuing up to vilify Mel Gibson, now confesses she knows him personally and realizes he’s not the man we think he is. 

Apparently the ‘Mad Max’ star who once infamously spouted, “the Jews are responsible for all the wars in the world.” was at his charming best when in a “room full of Jews” at her son’s bar mitzvah celebration.

So delighted was Weiner with her new found friend’s conduct she wrote, “Anyone who has attended such a gathering knows there is nothing more imposing than making friends in a room full of Jews who haven’t eaten in 24 hours.” 

Weiner also reveals that Gibson’s anti-Semitic remarks were triggered by what he explained was “personal criticism of him from the Jewish community over The Passion Of The Christ.” She also writes that Gibson confessed that he can be a mean drunk and, “Stuff comes out in a distorted manner…”

Quick to point out that Gibson is no altar boy and has an electricity and a wildness in his blue eyes that makes him such a great artist, Weiner explains, “The fact that he won’t jump to his own defense is part of his problem, but also part of why I have grown to respect him. I propose to Hollywood that it’s time to forgive Mel Gibson. He has been in the doghouse long enough.”

Hollywood, the ball is in your court. What do you think, are you ready to eat popcorn in the company of big Mel again?

Kate Perry: The Friendly Femminist

 Kate Perry has recently declared herself a feminist, but gentlemen please don’t be alarmed and worry that the lady who AskMen once referred to the “front-and-center all-American sex symbol in pop music" will be burning her push-up bra or hanging up her stiletto heels anytime soon. 

The saucy songbird has a new take on feminism and according to her, it’s all about “loving men”.

kate Perry may have been given a rougher than rough ride by bearded Brit buffoon Russell Brand, but the Californian babe who once “Kissed a Girl” and then became “One of the Boys” still has a lot of faith in the ‘unfair sex. 

In fact, the California girl’s definition of feminism is all about loving herself as a female and also making a particular point of loving men.  

The cracker who likes to sing about being a firework, told host Karl Stefanovic on Australian morning show “I Wake Up With Today” that she now considers herself a feminist, and when asked for her own personal definition of the term, Kate Perry replied, “I used to not really understand what that word meant, and now that I do, it just means that I love myself as a female and I also love men."

Which is pretty good news for any dude who fears the word feminism is just another word for, “Dude! I hate you because you’re a dude. It’s nothing personal but I’m a feminist and you’re a man, therefore you are the enemy. Gabeesh?”

Of course, as stated by God, sorry Wikipedia, feminism is, “A collection of movements and ideologies aimed at defining, establishing, and defending equal political, economic, and social rights for women. This includes seeking to establish equal opportunities for women in education and employment. A feminist advocates or supports the rights and equality of women.”

In essence feminism is great, but in the wrong hands it can get uglier than a rat’s ass and there are those mean-spirited souls who would use the much feared ‘F-word’ as a means to justify their own superiority complexes, wear terrible clothes, smell slightly unpleasant and deny all women their god-given right to be, well, simply women. 

Moody existentialists such as Simone de Beauvoir may have enjoyed dressing in dowdy old black outfits, as they chain-smoked suspicious cigarettes and argued that the ‘eternal feminine’ was a man-made construct made to subjugate women, but, ask any marketing men worth his salt and he’ll tell you, the likes of Kate Perry have the ‘eternal feminine’ by the bucket load and that’s something that most people dig. 

In fact when the big bearded macho guy in the sky put down his baseball bat and bottle of beer to make Kate Perry, he was probably thinking something along the lines of, “Imagine what Eve could have been like without her wanton ways and that appalling attitude of hers which got her into so much trouble.” 

Still, haters gonna hate, critics gonna criticize and ugly people gonna get uglier, it’s what they do best, but when some bull-faced green-eyed hippo with elephant legs and a hog’s snout starts criticizing Kate Perry in the press for having no real understanding of feminism, just remember what Kate said in 2012 after being named Billboard’s Woman of the Year, “I am not a feminist, but I do believe in the power of women.”

Now let us hear you roar lioness! 

Nicolas Cage - “It Sucks to be Me! I Wanted to be James Dean”

Don't Cage me in!

Spare a thought for the thinking person’s thespian Nicolas Cage. He may have millions in the bank, live in a palace and proudly boast of playing the lead role in a terrifying number of cinematic abominations, but the puppy-eyed sad Zack with a face that looks like it was carved somewhat crudely out of dough has recently lamented that, “It really sucks to be famous right now.” 

The Hollywood maverick also announced tearfully during a talk at the South By South West (SXSW) festival in Austin, Texas., "I started acting because I wanted to be James Dean. . I saw him in Rebel Without a Cause, East of Eden. Nothing affected me - no rock song, no classical music - the way Dean affected me in Eden. It blew my mind. I was like, 'That's what I want to do'.” 

In other words, like most unhinged malcontents who struggle desperately with the concept of reality, Cage wanted to pretend to be other people from an early age and dress it up as high art. 

The Face/Off actor went on to add somewhat cryptically and for no particular reason, “This was before everyone had a thing called a Smartphone, and before the advent of the ‘celebtard - just being famous for famous' sake.” 

Oh dear, looks like the aging artist is having what could be a very entertaining mid-life meltdown. Words to the wise young Nicholas. It also sucks to be poor, hungry, homeless and trapped in a soul-destroying job you despise. 

Yet Nicolas Cage’s biggest beef is the media intrusion into the lives of sensitive thespians, which he believes often overshadows the quality and integrity of their ‘art’. 

Like a vicious caged dog, the angry theatrical tart snarled, “In the LA Times, the critic who reviewed Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans, incorporated how many homes I bought or sold into the review."

The angry actor continued to rage inconsolably and lamented, "What the hell does Lindsay Lohan's personal life have to do with her performance in The Canyons? It should always be about the work itself. What difference does it make if Bill Clinton had an affair - how does that affect his performance as President?

"In my opinion, I don't want to see personal aspects of someone's life eclipse the work itself."

It’s a hard life Mr Cage, so stop your whining, or people will cruelly point out that if it wasn’t for your ‘famous’ uncle, Mr Francis Ford Coppola, the world may have never enjoyed experiencing the rare delights of your acting abilities in the first place.

Is it Kosher Dave?

DESPITE the president-elect of the British Veterinary Association, John Blackwell, calling for a ban on the traditional production of both kosher and halal meat, it appears David “call me medium rare” Cameron knows better and has vowed to defend the religious slaughter of animals on “his watch.”

In other words the terrible Tory is happy for defenceless animals to be strung up and die an agonising death because it’s what Moses would have wanted. 

The British Vets President advised that the practice of slitting animals’ throats and allowing them to bleed to death caused unnecessary suffering - and suggested animals should be stunned first.

Dave the committed carnivore thinks this is absolute poppycock and on his recent trip to Israel said he would never allow a ban on the production of kosher meat. The democratic diva then appeared to get quite excitable and like a poor man’s William Wallace, snarled, “When people challenged kosher Shechita. I have defended it.  I fought as a back-bench Member of Parliament against the last attempt to do something to change this. And there’s no way I’m allowing that to change now I’m Prime Minister. On my watch Shechita is safe in the UK.”

Well that’s a relief! Britain is great again and the world is a far safer place thanks to double-dip Dave and his steely determination to ensure animals are denied any humane treatment whatsoever and systematically killed without anesthetic because an invisible magical sky wizard said that’s the way the cookie’s got to crumble. 

Christ! What a pathetic sight in this ‘enlightened age’ when a supposed leader of men acquiesces to

gruesome barbarity and endorses real pain on real creatures all because of a set of crazed animal death rites conjoured up by a gang of illiterate nomads lost in the wilderness a few centuries and many moons ago dictates that this is the way it’s got to be?  

And let’s be clear this isn’t an issue of religion or creed, it’s an animal rights issue. Several Tory MPs have also called for a ban on a method of slaughter used to kill an estimated 600,000 animals a week in British abattoirs.

But Dave just won’t listen because he believes championing the ‘diet requirements’ of religious groups is far more important than the ‘right’ of an animal not to be butchered in a barbaric and terrifying fashion.  

Frack off Cameron you Runt!

With all the accumulated wisdom of a second-hand car salesman and the backstreet poetry of a snake oil salesman, Dai Cameron has accused opponents of fracking as “irrational,” labeling them “religiously opposed” to the new technique.

Well our prime plum would, wouldn’t he? Like Judas of old he’s held out his grasping clammy hand and had it crossed with the 30 pieces of silver. The ‘leader’ of the UK now lies safely tucked away in the grubby pockets of Mr Multinational and what’s more because he’s allowed the lure of money befuddle his senses and corrupt his conscious, he wants the rest of the UK to bend over and swallow too - like obedient little troopers.  

The Telegraph recently reported that Cameron snarled, “Many opponents of gas fracking are “irrational” and simply “can’t bear the thought of another carbon-based fuel.”

The multinational’s mouthpiece added that fracking is a “real opportunity” for Britain and that it could solve our gas needs for decades to come.

Dippy Dave warned that people refusing to back the process despite being presented with evidence that it is safe are not being “helpful”.

Appearing before the Commons Liaison Committee, Cool-hand Cameron also said that he is in favour of “cash payments to householders” disturbed by the drilling of wells near their homes.

Ministers have said that local communities will be allowed to keep tax generated by fracking and

Dai boy added that there would be "a serious amount of money" going into communities which accept shale gas wells, though it had not yet been decided how it should be split between county, district and parish councils.

However, he also said that the Government is also considering “whether, because of the disturbance in the early part of a well being dug, there should be cash payments to householders and I'm quite in favour of that... Actually saying to people 'there's going to be this small well drilling for shale gas and in order to make up for any inconvenience here is a cash payment'.”

In others words is a BRIBE! It sounds like the sort of thing the Mafia would do after accidentally shooting up someone’s shop in a gangland execution, “Sorry for any inconvenience. Here’s some cash for your troubles. Now don’t be a wise guy and keep your mouth shut. You aint seen nothing Gabeesh?” 

The fact that Cameron has resorted to bribery reveals how unpalatable the very idea of the hideously named ‘fracking’ is to our communities and just how much his paymasters must be cracking the whip. 

Diabolical David has gone on  record as saying some of the “myths” about the negative impact of fracking had not been borne out by experience in the US.”

Haven’t they? You’ve only got to google, “Water contamination in the USA caused by fracking” to see what a nonsense this is. 

Take a look at the above picture. It’s reminiscent of Blake’s “dark, satanic mills in this green and pleasant land” isn’t it? It’s actually a bird’s eye view of fracking in Texas. One thing for sure, it’s not pretty JR. Fracking ‘pads’ multiply faster than bunnies in spring.  And soon that could be the UK if Cameron and France get their way.

Why France? Because when fracking gets its teeth sunk into Britain the lion’s share of the profits will go into the coffers of huge French multinational -Total. Which is hugely ironic because France have actually banned fracking, but dastardly Dave sees no problem in allowing a French company who have been prevented from tearing up their own garden to come and rip ours to shreds. 

Follow the money trail and the truth is obvious. Fracking is just another fossil fuel and it’s hugely popular with the Westminister government, because so many of its members have close links to the fossil fuel industry. 

Fracking is just the sort of narrow-minded shorternism that appeals to old fossils everywhere. We live in an age where renewable energy farms, be they wind, solar, or tide our leading the way in an awfully slow but very real energy revolution.

Yet although there’s benefits for us all in such schemes, it just don’t promise the big bucks like pillaging and polluting our earth does. 

So it’s fracking all the way for David and the boys as they switch on the lights and burn baby burn!

Three Wolves, One Moon, and an Immortal Fashion Statement

The True Story Behind the Classic T-Shirt 

As a man who has danced with the devil, wrestled with pigs, rode a white swan, surfed the lightning and conquered the seventh torment, I was once granted the rare honour of sitting at Odin’s left hand side in the Halls of Valhalla.

There amongst many noble Viking warriors and Norse Gods of old, I quaffed much ale, gorged on much goose fat, and liberally tore into the rump of many a butchered bull. 

In the wake of much playful male-bonding when I nigh on tore that pussy Thor’s arm off in a spot of non-competitive arm-wrestling, it was time for the gathered assembled to cease their endless fighting and boasting, and gather around the flicker of flame and heat of hearth for a tale as old as the hills, as endless as the night and as fierce as a cider hangover.

It was a tale whose elemental  words were conjoured from the earth, forged in fire and written on the wind. Such was its raw and unbounded power this tale could make medicine ill, bring a brick to tears, dry up both sea and river, and cause the sky to fall. It was of course the tale of the wisest, greatest and best dressed warrior of them all - “Three Wolves and One Moon.” 

And now my dear, dear fellow followers of high-style and setters of fashion, it is my pleasure, nay honour, nay duty, nay birthright, to tell you in turn the tale of how this brave warrior bastard with all the generosity of a caring, but not in the least bit slightly feminine, God, came to sacrifice himself for the good of future generations. 

Without further ado, fellow brothers of sword and shield, and disciples of a new dawn, I give you the story of “Three Wolves and One Moon.” 

Once upon a time when the land was young and the moon was but a young maiden sitting pretty in the sky. there lived a young buck called Graham. Now Graham came from a proud and noble clan called the “Teeeeee Shuurts.” The name of this warrior tribe originated for the blood-curdling war-cry that would spill from their lips like the blood of their enemies when they charged into battle - “Teeeeee Shuurts.” Which when translated into the modern tongue means “Free Man!” 

Now upon coming a full grown warrior governed by the dictates of cold steel and male pride, Graham, as was customary for the tribe of ““Teeeeee Shuurts,” was given his own war crest and new name, chosen specifically for him by the village elders who through their daily consumption of funky fungi, spoke to diving beings for guidance on a daily basis. 

Following a tribal ceremony where Graham had to drink his own body weight in alcohol, impregnate at least three women, and win ten bouts of  bar-knuckle boxing against the hardest bastards in his commune, Graham was no more.

Like a Phoenix from the ashes, in the place of the bloodied, bruised and befuddled mortal that once was Graham, there arose a legendary warrior chief who was said to be half-man, half-god, and all mad bastard. His name was “Three Wolves and One Moon” and the sight alone of his battle standard, which portrayed three furry beasts howling in untamed unison at the moon was enough to turn his enemies’ resolve to mush, legs to jelly, and bowels to liquid. 

Over many years “Three Wolves and One Moon” became the most ferocious, yet fair warrior to ever wield an axe and sever an artery. All the men wanted to be him and all the women wanted to be with him, such was the mythical renown and magnetic animalistic allure of the warrior they once called “Three Wolves and One Moon.”

In fact, so admired was “Wolfie,” as only his closest brother in arms called him, that the tribe of “Teeeeee Shuurts” abandoned their long tradition of individual warrior crests and to a man they all adopted the “Three Wolves and One Moon” battle standard as their own. It was said that when a warrior fought under “Wolfie’s” standard their might and skill in battle would be that of ten men and their renown with the ladies would be off the scale. 

After a lifetime spent fighting, loving, drinking and ruling like a boss, “Three Wolves and One Moon” was thinking of stepping down and letting a younger man have a shot at the title when a grave and deadly threat to the freedom and way of life that the tribe of “Teeeeee Shuurts” had enjoyed for centuries reared its authoritarian head. 

From the East a new danger appeared in the form of a tribe that called itself, “The Sooots and Tys.” Which in the modern tongue translates as “The men of conformity.” Great was their number and disciplined were the ranks of the “Sooots and Tys.”who appeared as if out of nowhere like a big girly gang of well-dressed and well-heeled metrosexuals. These well groomed and strangely garbed monstrosities had but three mission statements - to always remain clean-shaven, apply liberal amounts of perfume, and above all put an end to the rule of that hairy good for nothing “Three Wolves and One Moon” and wipe the “Teeeeee Shuurts” off the face of the planet like a bad case of acne. 

Sadly, and despite fighting valiantly with all the vigor and athleticism of well-fed canines, the “Teeeeee Shuurts” were no match for the forces of “The Sooots and Tys” who outnumbered them at least by ten thousand to one. Battle after battle was fought in scenes that made the film ‘300’ look like a teddy bear’s picnic, but all to no avail, nothing it seemed could hold the unrelenting tide of “The men of conformity” at bay. 

With an army of over 100 thousand strong snapping at his heels, and with only two surviving warriors left from his once great tribe of “Teeeeee Shuurts”, “Three Wolves and One Moon” decided enough was enough and said to his two trusty lieutenants, ‘Brave Al’ and ‘Little Wayne’, “Enough! No more running me bonny boyos. It’s time to make our stand and fall like real men in one last glorious bout of carnage and guts or be damned as cowards for eternity.” 

With a mighty roar that made the ocean shudder “Three Wolves and One Moon” pulled out his sword and frothing at the mouth like a rabid dog, looked the hordes of advancing “Sooots and Tys” square in the eye and snarled, “Come and have a go if you think you’re hard enough you big bunch of perfumed ponces.” 

First to fall in the horror and bloodshed that followed was ‘Little Wayne’ but not before a good twenty thousand of the enemy’s number had tasted his steel up them. Like a courageous pin cushion ‘Brave Al’ fought on despite being pricked from head to toe with at least 218 of the enemies’ shafts. With 48 thousand, five hundred and sixty two “Sooots and Tys” slain, ‘Brave Al’s’ strength finally deserted him when arrow number 219 penetrated him and thus rendered the very last of “Three Wolves and One Moon’s” legendary band of warriors unable to hold his sword aloft and fight on in honour of his noble chieftain. 

Screaming like a vengeful god caught in an inconsolable hormonal rage, “Three Wolves and One Moon” went into a terrible battle frenzy, and knowing he was the last of his kind, fought with all the cunning and awareness of a cornered rat. Before the night had bruised the sky that day, the battle field was filled with 99.882 thousand corpses. Needless to say, “Three Wolves and One Moon” wasn’t one of them. 

This proud and slightly psychopathic warrior of whom I speak had managed to depart the field of battle, heavily wounded but alive. Yet no man, warrior or wizard,  cannot escape their destiny and knowing his time was rapidly coming to an end “Three Wolves and One Moon” crawled on his hands and knees like a pitiful zombie to where he did not know, he just felt compelled by a strange urge to keep crawling.

With the very life-force seeping from his bones and sweating out through his pores, “Three Wolves and One Moon” reached an ancient woodland where he cried tears of lament with the instinctive knowledge that he was the last of his breed and that in the distant future, future generations of men would become more weaker, less manly, less aesthetically aware, and more emotional needy than his own - just like the “Sooots and Tys”

Yet it slowly dawned on “Three Wolves and One Moon”, that there was a way to ensure the customs, traditions, attributes, and code of conduct that the “Teeeeee Shuurts” held so dear could be kept alive for future generations.

With grim regret that he would not that night dine in the halls of Valhalla with his warriors and drink fortified wine from the skulls of his enemies, but with all the grim resolve of a dying and vengeful bull,  “Three Wolves and One Moon” as is the right of any dying warrior summoned Odin to his side. 

The great Norse god appeared immediately and said in a voice like rotting bark, “What ails thee lad.” To which “Three Wolves and One Moon” replied, “Oh great Odin father, I am the last of my kind and I fear for future generations of men. As such I will forsake by right to feast and fight for all eternity in Valhalla, if you will but grant me the power to distill my very essence into a select range of insanely mythical, hugely significant, criminally potent, seductively barbaric, terribly stylish and outrageously beautiful garments that will be available for every real man with a set of iron-clad balls to buy for a very affordable price.” 

Odin looked strangely at “Three Wolves and One Moon” for approximately 37 seconds with his solitary bloodshot and watery eye, before replying in a voice that was reminiscent of the ripple of the ocean’s waves or the frying of bacon and sighed,” Consider it done soft lad.” 

And with a simple click of Odin’s fingers, “Three Wolves and One Moon” was magically transformed into a limited range of designer t-shirts whose strong visual design and dynamic was such that it was guaranteed to only appeal to a certain type of man. 

And from that day until now, men all over the world, who instinctively recognise the warrior greatness of the  “Three Wolves and One Moon” t-shirt have worn them with pride and felt the life-changing qualities that are inherent to the garment. An item of clothing which infuses the wearer with a little bit of the qualities that made the man, warrior, legend, that was  “Three Wolves and One Moon” so great.

So if you are still hesitant to purchase one of these fantastic t-shirts, because you have doubts that you are not really worthy and perhaps a little too feminine to harness and wield the full force testosterone rush that pulling on one of these garments gives you, then this is not the t-shirt for you my friend. 

However, if you desire to roar like a lion, run like a bull and unleash the warrior within whilst transforming yourself into a man god, then it’s high time to fulfill your destiny and become the child of the wolf and man of the moon that nature intended.

Immortality is only a click away. It’s yours. Now take it! 

12 starsigns! One You! Behold Your Destiny Fools!

Dee truth shall set ye free!

The future is a funny thing, as soon as you think you’ve got your hands on it, it turns with a wink of an eye into a present you just can’t unwrap. What’s more, before you know it, it turns its back on you, dumps you without a second thought and struts away like a slightly psychopathic mistress into the past. 

Yet the terrible and tyrannical hand of time is but an affliction for us mere mortals to contend with, for demi-gods and super-heroes such as the Epiphany Inferno’s part-time, semi-professional astrologer - Earl Elderflower, time is but a plaything they can travel through like a hot knife through butter. 

Join this half-crazed mad sage as laughs in the face of destiny, tears a new hole in the cosmos and peers inside to see exactly what the month of January has in store for you. 

Aries - Life could be a dream oh fiery Aries, if only you would swallow your pride and take a reliable cure for the insomnia that has plagued you for many a moon now. These sleepless nights will just not do my little horned ram. Tiredness is taking its toll, making your appearance haggard, your mood dark, your temper short and your tolerance levels nonexistent. I’m afraid you’re all shagged out my restless darling and a little more sleep and a little less stimulation is the best thing for you this coming month.  

Taurus - You do not suffer fools gladly Taurus, instead, you welcome them with open arms as they gleefully stab you without mercy and without remorse in your half-witted and naive little back.  A few choice words and a charming smile from a mysterious Russian who used to work for the KGB will have you all of a flutter in McDonalds this month, as he kindly offers to pay for your Big Mac meal. Yet think you air-headed fool, where do his real intentions lay? 

Gemini - It’s Friday night and the lights are low and unfortunately so too are you Gemini. But have you really nowhere to go? For God’s sake pull yourself together, put on your dancing shoes and paint the town red. You’ll wake up in the morning like a bear with a sore head with no memory of the night before and a healthy dose of self-loathing to boot, but at least you’ll have the satisfaction of knowing that for one evening at least you really did try and set the night on fire.

Cancer - Mary had a little lamb its fleece was white as snow. And what did you do Cancer? You put it in the oven and ate it with a few choice new potatoes and a sprinkling of parsley. Shame on you, you rampant carnivore. In all seriousness however, this month those born under the sign of the crab are guilty of trying to put a little too much on their plate. Your eyes are bigger than your stomach dear, so I suggest you question what it is you truly desire before you stuff yourself silly.

Leo - The times they are a’ changing proud Leo, but your wardrobe sadly isn’t. In this post-modern age we are all fond of a bit of retro clothing dear, but that faded floral frock and green Wellington's I saw you parading around Waitrose in last Tuesday just won’t wash I’m afraid. Fashion is a passion Leo and to feel like a million dollars you’ve got to look the part. I suggest you dress to impress if you’re really serious about getting your clammy little hands on you know who. 

Virgo - I’m not going to pussyfoot around the bush with you this month Virgo because you’re worth more than that. As my old friend and regular drinking buddy Mr T once said to me, “Shape up sucker! The kid-gloves are off and it’s time to get real.” Is there a certain judgmental someone in your life who is draining all the energy out of you like a monstorous leech? Well maybe, just maybe, it’s time be who you really are, even if it is a six-footed, muscle-bound drag queen with a penchant for little Prada dresses. 

Libra - This month you feel like you’re walking on water and floating on air my likable Libra. Well bully for you, because in the throes of self-indulgent ecstasy have you ever stopped to consider that some of us are being metaphorically dragged across broken glass and drowning in sorrow. No? Well just maybe you should. Of late your selfish streak has not gone unnoticed my dear and people are starting to talk. Beware this month of a lottery syndicate who seek to exclude you from their big win and bring you down to earth with a bump.

Scorpio -  It’s like a jungle our their Scorpio, except the beasts are even uglier. Yet you cannot hide yourself away in royal seclusion forever dear. It’s been three days of solitude now and the voices in your head are becoming a little too real aren’t they sweetheart. Perhaps today is the day to draw back the curtains and let the world in. My advice to you this month would be to empty the ashtrays, pour what’s left in the bottles down the sink, take out the trash, do the dishes, greet the dawn and start anew. 

Sagittarius - What a crooked web you weave Sagittarius. Yet like an ancient and bloated spider who has gorged themselves senseless on the blood of helpless lifeforms, you have become nauseous of all the plotting, backstabbing and political intrigue that you once considered your forte. Perhaps It’s time to do away with all the Machiavellian manipulation and opt for the simple life lovey. There is a primitive joy to be found in being as straightforward and direct as an uncultivated savage from the primordial swamp -  even if it does mean being blacklisted from everyone’s social calendar. 

Capricorn - It seems doom and gloom accompany you everywhere like two old friends at times doesn’t it Capricorn? Well cheer up you stroppy mare because this month you might just win big on the gee gees. But to win big you have to bet big. Now is not the time for prudence you old goat. Splash the cash and invest the rest on the gamble of a lifetime and maybe this time next week you’ll be a lot richer, sitting beside the pool in some sun-kissed exotic location and moaning about the heat. 

Aquarius - Poor Aquarius, an unfortunate drunken incident in a chinese restaurant has left you squirming in embarrassment and broken up in a million different pieces this month, hasn’t it? But please stop tormenting yourself by replaying those mental images of yourself naked and drunk, whilst dancing on that table and singing. We’ve all seen the video on You Tube dear and yes, while there is an awful lot to be perpetually squeamish and shamed into silence about, it’s very much a case of c’est la vie! Get over it and move on you drunken cow. 

Pisces - Dear me Pisces it seem the word ‘Recession’ is not in your vocabulary. You’ve maxed your credit cards, overdrawn your overdraft and basically thrown all caution to the wind. Yet be warned my little fish, the devil always collects and that huge plasma screen, distressed leather sofa, and state of the art sunbed you frivolously purchased in a split-second of wild abandon will come back to bite you on the butt this month. Do not fret too much though dear, once everything has been repossessed you will still be left with a bright orange glow from the excessive use of that sunbed which will shortly be in the caring hands of the bailiffs. 

Remember! It’s never over until the fat lady sings. See all you mystical bastards next month for another generous slice of realer than real astrology.