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Good Day, Folks!

It’s Mr. Christopher Moore of the Moore-Or-Less-Born-Here&Then, ‘cause the Weekie-Weenie-Winey-Mo doesn’t give us everything now, does it?  Basic information that should be there that isn’t.  1957.  That’s all.  A day?  A month?  Nah, nada.  Nopee-nope-nope.  So it’s all up to me wild but O so accurate guesses: ya must be born sometime and somewhere around the Scorpio constellation all mixed up with card no. 13, the death card, the 13th house, the 13 month… change & creativity highlighted… wait a minute.  There’s no such 13th month.  Stuck between the 12th and 14th month, that’s why, just like there’s no 4th floor in Chinese lifts.  Err.  Wot?  Yeah, yeah coming through with it… here: guess I was just putting Mr Moore’s sign somewhere in the intensely and funny birth sign that would constitute a Cancer crossed with a Scorpio, literally, wot a beast!  It fits perfectly with Chrissy-Man being a comic and cosmic fantasy writer, famous for his ‘Green Eggs and Hamlet’ epic.

Let’s get seriously serious now, here: your three cards (3) reading is here:

“Where’s Rosie now?”  Who said that?  None of your business!  She’s not here so don’t, please don’t you call her name or she might just turn up.  Stop interrupting!  Shut up.

Empress + High Priestess + Devil

Hmm… that’s two women in three cards and the Devil on your outcome.  Wot are you thinking of Mr. Moorey-Man?  Building a case for a Wuthering Heights situation?  Some larger than life fantastic and phantasmagorical event of the once-in-a-blue moon?  I shall remain vague.  All you need to remember here is to pack your bags, take a trip and enjoy yourself, by yourself only ‘cause that’s just what the doctor ordered and ‘cause you’ve been bulbed and it should help and boy O boy do you know it, besides, right now for you, it’s just like you’d say: “There’s always a bloody raven.”

Let’s get on with more interesting stuff than the daily nutty nitty-gritty gravy of your everyday life:

The chore of your reading lies on caution, smart smugness and smug smartness only you know about and intimately and, as I said before, on you packing your bags and finding out what it is that must be found elsewhere.  You currently need to feel renewed inspiration and the road less travelled is your path to re-anointing yourself with yourself, yah?  That’s one question answered clearly and if ya don’t know what da question was then work it out from the answer provided.

During your trip, you’ll not just find a mere answer to your querying quest but also the answer to your current predicament.  After all, you’re the one who said: “Sarcasm will make your tits fall off.”  Not bad but – if I may – and I forgive you your lack of feminist ideology – that equation should come up as: “Sarcasm will make your tits and dick or balls fall off”, this ‘cause men without tits don’t have much to lose and ‘cause it takes courage for a man to admit losing a dick and which you’ll discover in your travels.  I specified ‘dick or balls’ ‘cause women may not have dicks although they do have balls.

Hey, Christobald, wot’s up, Mate?  You do feel like you need a drink.  Wake up.  Whatever happens happens, even if it be mere assless fucking shit (I do mean this, shit that seems to come from nowhere).  The good thing is that your shattered hopes will recover, that you’ll get back on your black stallion and that you’ll feel like you’ll have learned something important and, in a way, you’ll feel your inspiration and intuition renewed: you’ll be bestowing many more funny books of a third kind upon us.

Currently, it seems that you don’t feel so creative and you don’t like to admit that your will to fight and your pride are at their lowest.  Are they really?  Or is this just a way to make us all feel befrazzled, wondering and pondering of all of our might?  Who the fuck wants to know anyway?  So if you don’t care, right now, we don’t care either.  I do know when to zip it.

Your past on French speaking Wikipipidia says that you dropped out of school at around 16, took many odd jobs to learn about ‘gratuitous shagging, murder, spanking, maiming, non-traditional vulgar and profane grammar’ (part of a sentence you used yourself on some other occasion) and then attended University.  The English speaking WinkyWankypedia skips the middle between school and University.  Wot is there to conclude?  That dropping out of school at 16 is good for creativity no matter wot and for money making endeavours or that going to University to learn how to make steamed breakfast cereals is what really counts?  Don’t fear: I do draw cards to read one’s past usually and today the cards tell me that you often felt like you couldn’t reach the goals you dreamed of but couldn’t help going forward with your dreamed needs and that because they were needs, they paid off in the long run.

Mate, I say right now, if your creative powers and such and such are low, do not despair and draw within your self-empowering abilities to recover from the experience.  Besides, like I said before, do take that trip and you’ll feel renewed.

There’s no point in trying to think straight when nothing seems like it should seem.  Appearances may be confusing.  You really need to let go at the moment.  Dunno wot to suggest really.  Read a sad book ‘cause that will make you want to get back into the ‘funny’ in no time and stop driving in the fog or clean your windscreen.

Your next endeavour sounds pretty much like your life at present: grim, ungainly, ghastly but soon-to-be-A-GAIN-hilarious and as sarcastic as ever.  C’mon, Sir Moore, get back on that horse and don’t let that small fall get to you, it’ll be over soon, if not before.

Hope you got something out of this reading.


PS:  Do email us if you’d like to generously donate some of your books to someone you don’t know but who knows you well in return.  Good deal, ain’t it?