As morbid Saturn and idiot Uranus close for their ghastly grope in noxious November, you'll spend your money on illicit sex, black magic or mortician's fees, or your broker will embezzle all your funds to pay for an alcohol or drug problem.
You will become a drug dealer, or you will put money into schemes involving fish, artists or funerals. Your bank and your broker have a fearsome battle, hurling paper clips and loaded inkwells at one another as they dispute the disposition of your funds. Nitpicking accountants keep turning your money over to the tax department whose staff will pilfer it to get even drunker at their office parties.
You become unwittingly involved in offshore investment schemes and fantasize about having a fortune whilst living a boringly simple life, counting out your change and having to save for your favourite breakfast cereal. An eccentric relative will pass over, but leave his money to a pod of dolphins.
TIPS FOR JADED JUNE:
Your friends talk about themselves, causing you to sulk or hit them violently (only if they're small and weak). You will eject them from your life and look for another set of creatures too brainless to question anything you say. You revert to an earlier hairstyle and hire a hall to display it in public.
You'll have a wild party at the Full Moon in Sagittarius, after you've won money at the races. You book an actor's troupe to attend this party and rehearse them in feigning friendship and praising you. As the great Sol Invicti slips into gruesome little Cancer, you'll pretend to be sick so people will feel sorry for you. Come again and learn how you fare. Well, I trust, but we shall yet live to see it, if we don't live to regret it. For the nonce, it's hail and farewell to you, my tiny maned monstrosities.
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