Auntie Doris’s Tarot Card of the Week #77 The Four of Pentacles: 20-26th April 2015

4 Pents

Some people just don’t trust the banks at all, do they. And you can’t ruddy well blame them either, I suppose. They say that they are full of ruddy fat cats wearing red braces, smoking cigars and doing what they like with your money and then making you pay through the ruddy nose if you accidentally spend any of theirs. Then again, whenever I went into a bank in recent years they seemed to be full of helpful, polite young women in nice clean clothes who didn’t seem in the least bit grasping or horrible. Perhaps they had been enslaved by the fat cats, who were all in the back room, with rolled up ten pound notes in their ruddy noses snorkelling ruddy cocaine or something. Only them women didn’t look very enslaved. And one of them used to live on the next street but one to my nephew Michael, and she had quite a nice car and hanging baskets outside of her house, which doesn’t really go with the image of enslavement.

Any road. My friend vera never used to hold with banks, what she did was, she put a slit in the side of her mattress and every time she had some spare money, she pushed it inside there, saving it for a “rainy day” It must have played ruddy havoc with her posture springing. We used to tell her that the first place that burglars would look would be inside her mattress, but she told us not to be so ruddy stupid. besides, she liked the way that it crinkled when she rolled around on the bed. Any road, she never used it for years. until one day her twin tub broke down, and her Richard, (thats’s her oldest lad, the one with the facial boils) decided that he would take her to Dixon’s to get a new washer drier.

the thing was, that part of the reason that the washer drier had gone in the first place was that she had be using it nigh on every day, because of the fact that she had recently developed problems with her waterworks and had started peeing the bed most nights. So when she came to fishing out all those tenner and fivers, they were all damp, and stank to high heaven. She pegged them out on a rack in the airing cupboard, and they eventually dried. but they still ruddy stank, and so did the rest of the house by that time.

You should have seen her Richard’s face, and the salesman’s an’all, when she emptied them out of the carrier bag to pay for her new hotpoint. I think that they had to fumigate the branch of Dixon’s afterwards. And they never even bothered asking her if she wanted to give them another fifty quid for an extended warranty.

Any road. The bloke in the four of pentacles is the sort of bloke who stuffs his cash under the mattress. He isn’t going to spend it unless he comes up against a major crisis such as his twin tub breaking down. He isn’t going to put it in the bank, and he isn’t going to go out and have a good time with it. More fool him. Somebody should point out to him that you can’t take it with you when you go. All that will happen is that it will end up heavily devalued and stinking of piss.

Four things that you might do this week. (i) Take your ruddy copper jar to the bank. Its only cluttering up your mantelpiece, and the nice ladies there will help you to count it out and open a proper account for you. You night even get a free gift. I seem to remember getting a pen off the lady at the National Westminster on the Hight Street in the 1980s. It was a nice one too, it came attached to its own stand, with a silver chain. (ii) Change your mattress, or at least turn it upside down. if you got it second hand, check inside for bank, notes. Wear rubber gloves though, because you never know what else could be lurking within. My Raymond’s brother Bernard got a septic arm by putting his hand in an unhygienic mattress and scratching it on a broken spring. The doctor said it was like injecting himself with his mothers piss. (iii) Spend some of your ruddy money. Theres no point in saving up for a rainy day, you might get run over by a bus tomorrow. If you have no money to spend, then stay in, or if you must go out, avoid the major bus routes. (iv) If you are buying anything from Dixon’s this week. or any of those shops, and the salesman asks you if you want to pay fifty quid or so extra for an extended warranty. Tell him to go tittle. They aren’t worth the paper that they are written on and besides, you won’t want your washer drier mending if you have just been run over by that bus, will you?

Auntie Doris’s Tarot Card of the Week. #66 The Four of Wands – 2-8 February 2015


Well.. one of us has got themselves in the family way, and its not me, I’ll tell you that for nothing. So if its not exactly you,  its someone close to you. And if you don’t know anyone close to you that’s in the family way, then they haven’t told you yet, probably because it was more than likely unplanned. Any road, you had better get those knitting patterns for bonnets and bootees out and get ruddy well cracking.

How do I know? well its simple when you know your cards. Four strong staffs, bursting with goodness, standing vertical. Someone has had the idea that if you do it standing up, you cant possibly conceive. Obviously that’s a load of old nonsense. Have you seen the length of those things? They are like them ruddy exocet rissoles. They can accurately place the gravy within a fraction of a millimetre of an egg whether the parties concerned are horizontal, vertical diagonal, inverted, animal, vegetable, or mineral. (although I’m not sure that you can get mineral eggs, but you could try boiling them in mineral water – whatever that is, when its all at home) The standing up method of birth control may work with men of a certain age who haven’t got the stamina to remain in the upright position for very long and do not scatter their seed with quite the same gusto as the young men in the parables, but I wouldn’t risk it, even with my Raymond, and sometimes he couldn’t even hit a dinnerplate with his gravy, especially after a Sunday morning Session at the Rose and Crown. Many’s the time I had to put the tablecloth on a boil wash.

Any road, just because its unexpected, doesn’t mean that it isn’t a cause for celebration.  There’s the happy couple in the background, waving their pom-poms about.  Of course, sometimes the ruddy bloke makes himself scarce as soon as there is a whiff of nappy in the air. Like My sister Pearl’s chap, American soldier he was stationed round here during the war. Took her for a magical weekend in Blackpool, but as soon as he realised she was expecting he had scuttled off back to Cincinnati, probably before his wand was properly dry. Pearl was left to look after Little Walter, although my mother pretended that he was hers, so nobody found out, but they had their suspicion when Pearl married Uncle George and “adopted” him.

Four things that you might do this week. (i) Invest in some protection. There’s allsorts you can get nowadays for both men and women. Even things made out of goats bladders for people who are allergic to rubber. Although If my Raymomd had ever come at me with a goat’s innards wrapped around his thing I would have hit him on the end of it with a spoon quick sticks. I’ll tell you that for nothing. (ii) Invest in some knitting needles and some pink or blue wool. You can easily determine the sex of an unborn child by putting your keys on a shoelace and twizzling them over the woman’s belly. If they go clockwise its a boy, anti clockwise its a girl. Unless you live in the Southern Hemisphere, where its the other way on, like most things are in that part of the world. (iii) Invest in a decent gravy boat to increase the chances of hitting the plate rather than the tablecloth. But why ever anyone would want gravy on their eggs, The Lord alone knows. Save it for Sunday dinner. which is a good rule of thumb for many things in life. (iv) Invest in a plastic tablecloth, they do all sorts of designs these days, and they just wipe clean, which is better for the environment than adding to global warning with boil washes. Get some plastic mattress protectors while you are at it. I think that they also make mattress protectors out of goats bladders. The filthy so and sos.