Auntie Doris’s Tarot Card of the Week #27: The King of Pentacles – 5th – 12th May 2014

Well well well. I see Money this week. A very well off person. The King of Pentacles represents someone who has reaped the rewards of some shrewd investment. He has invested in grapes, and all of a sudden everyone wants wine, so he can charge what he likes. He has invested in bulls, all of a sudden everyone wants beef dinners, so he can charge what he likes again. On Sunday, when everyone is tucking into a roast beef dinner with a glass of red, he will be counting his pennies and licking that lovely big toffee apple that he is holding in the picture. maybe you have something knocking around your house which means that you are sitting on a ruddy gold mine. It’s time to cash in. Maybe David Dickenson is coming near you, with his improbable face and a handful of banknotes, or the Antiques Roadshow or something, maybe they would like a peep inside your mother’s old drawers. Or maybe you will have to go fading about on the internet, and selling your unwanted items on the eBay. If it’s clothing, you had best give them a rinse first. No one likes to buy soiled delicates. Well, apart from a few filthy so and so’s and you don’t want to be dealing with the likes of those.
Apparently the eBay has weekends where there aren’t any of those insertion fees. I should think so an’all. If everyone went around charging each other insertion fees, there would only ever be rich people who could afford to have kiddies. And you know what rich people’s kiddies are like. Spoiled brats half of the time. They know the price of everything and the value of nothing. And they would probably charge each other ruddy insertion fees when they grew up. I blame the parents, but I suppose it’s the culture that they grew up in.
Any Road, the king of Pentacles is loaded enough not to bother about insertion fees. He’s up on his spare throne in the vineyard, with his foot on a robot dog or some ruddy thing. He’s probably bought himself a robot dog with some of his spare cash, probably because they don’t make as much of a ruddy mess on the carpet as real dogs do, and they don’t die if you accidentally tread on them with your great size nines when you are getting out of bed. Like When my Raymond trod on my Hairy Mary that time. The poor little thing died instantly with its little eyes popping out of one end and it’s little innards popping out of the other. What a way to go. So remember. Riches might buy you material things, but they can’t bring your little doggy back when it’s gone. And if you ask me. A robot dog is no ruddy substitute.
Four things you might like to do this week. (i) Have a glass of red wine with your dinner. there’s usually a cheap one in the supermarket. Get a sherry in whilst you are there, in vase the wine whets your appetite for a proper drink. (ii) try and sell some of your old junk for profit. Or at least stick it in a bin liner and leave it out for a charity, such as the Headless Orphans. (iii) have a toffee apple. You can make your own easily enough as long as you have a stuck, and an apple. Ohh, and some toffee. (iv) spend some time appreciating your little dog, or cat, or fish, or someone else’s if you haven’t got one. Remember: Robot pets just can’t love you in the same way.

3 thoughts on “Auntie Doris’s Tarot Card of the Week #27: The King of Pentacles – 5th – 12th May 2014

  1. I enjoyed this entry immensely, Auntie Doris. It capped off my Sunday like only the finest of Sherry can.

    If you’ll forgive a ruddy fool, I’d like to point out a small but significant detail in the King of Pentacles card you no doubt noticed, but neglected to mention. Though I presume you no doubt had your reasons, Auntie.

    The three poppies that adorn the King’s decadent spare throne there? They no doubt represent his love of opium. That beautiful soma. His eyelids, if you look, hang heavy with the weight of bliss. I can only assume that the the King—who is no doubt indifferent towards the decline of his kingdom and its impossibly ruddy subjects—retires to this state of nature with his Papaver Somniferum, his Toffee apple, his grapes, his bulls, and of course, the robot dog beneath his armoured Reeboks, to ponder…nothing.

    …nothing at all.

    • My dear Mr Playbook. Well spotted! Although I rather think that they are part of his crown than his throne. You read them well though, I suspect that you have some aptitude with the tarot. You’ll never be short of a bob or two with a skill like that. If you play your cards right, of course.

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