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May 4, 1998

Sir Charles Grandiose presents Grandiose Horoscopes for the week of May 4, 1998 Incontinentus, the Water Dripper (January 21-February 20): Those born under the water sign tend to be wet sops when it comes to social events, and quite often end up bachelors or spinsters. Shy and retiring, they often turn out to be bookkeepers. The Incontinentus horoscope for this week: Aspects for financial gain may be good, or they may not. Mercury is in Uranus, so you might want to wiggle about a bit. Termagant, the She-Dog (February 21-March 20): Individuals fortunate enough to be born under the sign of the She-Dog usually say whatever in blazes they fancy and damn the consequences. They are unusually good at nosing out gossip as well. Celebrities found under this sign: Eunice, Duchess of Crabbe. The Termagant horoscope for the week: Your piles will act up. Bring along the rubber cushion to any social functions you may encounter, but don't be surprised if your host has trained his wife's lap dogs, Mimi and Solange, to bite through them. Anita, the Temptress (March 21-April 20): Despite their suave and charming personalities, Anitrans tend to carry deep dark secrets. Favourite colour: Blue. Favourite Movie: Victor/Victoria. Anitran horoscope for the week: Your lucky number is either 3, 5, 7, 14, or 239. This is a bad week to go with off-the-rack couture. But then, isn't every week? Frigidia, the Iceberg (April 21-May 20): An icy personality marks those born under the chilly sign of Frigidia. Reclusive and rebuffing, Frigidians tend to have plenty of good looks and a secret fondness for clear nail polish. Your Frigidian horoscope: Just because your titled husband happened to be riffling through your drawer of foundation garments does not necessarily mean he was up to no good. His story about needing a handkerchief for his spectacles might hold water in the courts, you know. Apollo, the Baronet (May 21-June 20): What a blessed sign! Apollonians tend to glow with a certain inner light, and are remarkably charismatic, intelligent, creative, devilishly handsome, and naturally modest. The Apollonian horoscope for the week: Don't change. You're perfect the way you are. Doublemint, the Twins (June 21-July 20): Doublemintonians tend to have a wandering attention span. It is best to say things to them twice. Doublemintonian horoscope for the day: You you may may have have a a telephone telephone call call this this afternoon afternoon. Or or you you may may not not. Airy, the Flatulent (July 21-August 20): Although they tend to talk quite a bit, ultimately the Airian personality deflates after blustering for a while. Airian celebrities include Lord Frost of Lockseley-Charmes, and Camille 'Boom Boom' Bannerling. Your Airian horoscope: Don't make a stink. Loved ones may make unusual request, such as that you spend the night in another bed. Be sure your motor has plenty of petrol. Charo, the Bosomy (August 21-September 20): Charonians are hot-blooded, fun-loving creatures who, if they have one failing, only err in their assumptions that everyone else enjoys Lambada, the Forbidden Dance. And one certainly does not. The Charonian outlook for this week: You may hear voices within your head urging you to stalk and strangle the singer of that sinking ship cinematic ballad. Follow-through is the keyword of the week. Pagitonius, the short dwarf with the off-center eye and the dashing belt-buckle (September 21-October 20): Pagitonians tend to be dour in their outlook, but at heart they are good creatures, if a bit on the dressy side. This week for Patigonians: Friendships become strained when you deposit a rather cheap caviar down the neck of your best friend after he steals your girlfriend. A smile is your umbrella, but just remember that they're not always waterproof. Viagra, the Rock (October 21-November 20): Those born under the influence of the Rock are always alert and at attention. Their postures are truly to be admired. However, they are perhaps overfond of their comforts, and are always looking for something soft and comfortable to nestle into. Some pigs you are this week, Viagrans! Avoid fatty foods, unless they're rather toothsome, in which case they should send the recipe to: Cook, c/o Blandsdown, Fishampton, ------shire, England. Penelopus, the Princess (November 21-December 20): Fortunate Penelopusans are comely of form and fair of face, charismatic in appeal, and some of them (one hesitates to mention one's own ward, Young Penelope Windsor-Smythe) are eighty-seventh in line for the throne. This week's Penelopusian fortune: You've already had an advance on your trust fund, young lady. What do you mean, one looks especially handsome today. Do you think? Well, one has been applying cucumbers to one's eyes at . . . really? My dear girl, you should have said you needed it for charity. Of course. Here's a cheque for three hundred pounds. Agnetha, the Swede (December 21-January 20): Agnethans can dance. Agnethans can jive. Agnethans, in general, have the times of their lives. . . oh, dash it all. One's secretary just have been listening to that Satanic heavy metal 'rock' group, ABBA, again. Lost in the stars, one remains for yet another week, Sir Charles Grandiose Antoine writes: Charles! I just wanted to thank you for your support of the gay community last week. How fabulous of you. Really. But I just wanted to point out one little thing. It's not Liza Millenni. It's Liza Minelli, star of such fabulous entertainments as Cabaret, for which she won an Oscar, The Sterile Cuckoo, New York New York, Rent-A-Cop, and of course, who could forget her turn on Broadway in The Rink? You see, Liza is a personal heroine of mine. Which brings me to another matter. You may or may not have seen the bracelets that kids are wearing these days. They're little elastic bracelets with the letters W W J D on them. You see, you're supposed to look at the bracelets and think, What Would Jesus Do? every time you reach a personal dilemma. Well, that's all very well and good if you're the sort of person who can actually heal lepers and raise the dead, but I'd like to market a brand new bracelet to people like me who need a little personal inspiration from time to time. The WWLD bracelet! Mounted on a handsome rainbow band, the WWLD will provide a little bit of uplift every time the wearer encounters the difficulties of daily life. Why, I constantly ask myself, when I'm miffed, What Would Liza Do? Would she think of Mama? Would she pop a pill? Would she just change from one Halston to another? Would she just dance her troubles away at Studio 54? Would she just laugh that marvellous laugh of hers and tell a heartwarming story about the filming of Arthur? Would she leave that bland old Cliff and stay in Germany to face the war on her own terms, singing out her heart, even though it was breaking, because life is a cabaret? So anyway, Charles, Sir, I just need a little capital to proceed with my plan. One million pounds should suffice. Of course, you will be my silent partner. I am just oh so sure that your nephew Chauncey would approve! Sincerely, Antoine St. Joseph Amarinth     Sir Charles replies: Sir, One's nephew does indeed think that the project is, and here I use his exact verbiage, 'divine.' As editor of Milady's Boudoir, Chauncey is a natural-born businessman with an eye for fashion and future trends. When he eventually stops playing Jack the Lad and settles down to take a bride and produce dozens of little Grandiose heirs, his wife will be the best-dressed woman in the city. And as one is always willing to help inspire the masses, one is sending the correspondent an old 'Scrabble' set. Slightly deaf in one's right ear when it comes to money, one remains, Sir Charles Grandiose Albert writes: Dear Sir Charles, My girlfriend is a promising chef at Les Bourbons. It's a restaurant downtown. She's really quite a good chef. Her Halibut Lyonnaise is to die for. It's succulent, it's tempting, it's beautifully presented, and I can generally eat the entire platter. I can't say enough about her halibut. But now she's being wooed away to a restaurant in New York City! I don't want to move, Sir Charles. Why should I have to follow her? Why? Why? Albert Sir Charles replies: Good fellow, Why? Why not just for the halibut? Still chuckling over one's little pun, one remains, Sir Charles Grandiose Clarence writes: Dear Sir, So kind of you to grace my missive with your no doubt ivory handled electronic Ouvreur De Lettre. I realize your family, with admirers in number so high that if they were all ants disguised as pieces of white rice, no Chinese restaurant would be safe from their larceny, receives several such similar request for advice, so I shall try to keep this brief. You may have perceived that I am actually quite common, having just received my first pair of kitten fur slippers (and oh are they ever soft to the touch and such a lovely shade of tabby!) and as stereotypes are true, I haven't yet learned the directness of proper sophisticated speech. My new tutor from Snobberies is working on it, but right now he said to concentrate on using multi-syllabic bon mots with the occasional pointless Patios thrown in for effect. . . or was that affect? In any case, my patron is trying to make me a more suitable companion so I may accompany him to the more sophisticated gambling dens he so likes to frequent. My question to you is this: as part of my education, must I really sit through all those viewings of My Fair Lady? My corset bursts with anticipation of your response, Miss Amphette Caphine Nicotinee, (Title coming soon, luck on the tables and stays withstanding) Sir Charles replies: Miss Nicotinee, Repeat after oneself. Dame Chance, in France, is rarely in the manse. Dame Chance, in France, is rarely in the manse. By George, I think she's got it! A social disease, one of course means. Slipping his feet into slippers of baby seal, one remains, Sir Charles Grandiose