It’s New Year’s Eve and a mentally exhausted Kisma Aryias can hardly feel his crystal balls as through half-closed eyes he tries to work out what lies ahead in 2021 for the last two star signists in his massive six-days-in-a-row project of perfect predictions.
In this final issue, the world’s most famous and by far the most accurate astrologer … EVER! … Kisma looks at what dangers lurk ahead for those unlucky enough to have been born under the signs of Scorpio and Sagittarius.
And it’s not as if those born under other stars can’t learn something from the sooth he’s saying.
Oct 23 – Nov 21
January 5: You watch Channel 7 footage of Steve Smith spending a few minutes out in the middle inspecting the SCG pitch ahead of the third Test and think that’s a nice thing for him to do seeing it won’t be replicated during the five days of real play.
January 17: You wonder if it might be finally a sign of growing maturity and discernment that you find yourself tiring of excessively violent shows such as Ozark and Fargo with their frequent bloody and graphic murders and totally ridiculous storylines, no matter how entertaining they might be. I mean really; having recently caught up with the TV series of Fargo, you’re still shaking your head over the notion that Billy Bob Thornton’s chilling assassin Lorne Malvo in the first season could get away with pretending to be a top-shelf dentist for a year just to try to extract (pun intended) from a colleague the location of a target in witness protection or that the Byrdes in Ozark could continue to successfully launder drug money through their riverboat casino with it awash with government investigators trying to catch them at doing exactly that. Unbelievable stuff, right? You wouldn’t blame that old pisspot scriptwriter Herman J. Mankiewicz spinning in his grave over the time he spent trying to rationalise the motivations of his characters in Citizen Kane and then frame the words they spoke when his modern counterparts just pump out totally unbelievable shit without a care in the world because they have hundreds of other Netflix shows to write crap for.
January 19: It comes as no surprise while watching News Breakfast on the ABC that a series of really average puns from Michael Rowland forces co-host Lisa Miller to launch herself from her chair and stab him repeatedly – your guess is at least 12 times – with a pen before the screen goes black.
February 11: Watching the Oscars ceremony, you suddenly realise it’s been a really, really long time since a flick really moved you and not just your bowels.
February 14: You decide not to talk to your wife for a month after she gives you a totally inappropriate Valentine’s Day present – a new six-slice fancy Breville toaster when she knows full well you haven’t eaten bread for yonks as part of your slimming regime – but then think: how will she then know you’re displeased with her?
February 29: Nothing for you this year. Or the next two. See you again in three years time. Sorry, but shit happens.
March 15: You have this dreadful feeling someone might try to stab you in the back at work today.
March 21: You are somewhat disappointed when your first-born son announces an unexpected change in career-path options.
April 1: You faint dead away when you hear Ben Fordham on his 2GB breakfast show calling on “corrupt” Gladys Berejiklian to resign from Parliament and expressing the hope that her departure might somehow force an early election to make Opposition Leader Jodi McKay Premier.
April 18: You are not at all surprised when Prime Minister Scott Morrison calls an election for Saturday May 22 because, although he would have preferred to go full term, ongoing speculation of a snap early poll by The Australian, other Newscorpse papers, the Nine Entertainment mastheads, the radio shockjocks and even the ABC, for fuck’s sake, is causing unnecessary uncertainty and undermining business confidence.
July 1: You start to wonder if you have a drinking problem seeing you really gave it a nudge last night to welcome in the start of the New Financial Year.
August 1: It’s the horses’ birthday and as you stand naked in front of your full-length mirror you realise rather sadly that you have precious little in common with the equine species.
September 1: There’s a definite spring in your step today.
November 6: While you accept the wisdom of Guy Fawkes Night in Australia being banned way back when because of all the eye and hand injuries, you nevertheless are swamped with nostalgia as you remember the way you and just about every other kid around the traps got out on their bikes before dawn this day each year to scour at first light the sites of bonfires in surrounding suburbs to look for fizzers! And what about that morning in the paddock across from your home when you made the very rare discovery of one of those square four-penny bungers still unexploded with an inch of wick left. Heck, only the posh kids could afford them and they were so powerful they could blow your hand clean orf. And not more than two yards away, on that very same morning, that skyrocket in absolutely pristine condition still sitting in its launch milk bottle! Who the fuck could have forgotten to let that one off, hey? Some rich prick probably.
December 11: The silly season starts on television but you don’t notice.
December 31: As the clock ticks down, you shout Let’s Try to Have More Fun …Than We Did In Twenty Twenty One! but your heart’s not in it and you suspect 2022 is just going to be another truly shit year.
Nov 22 – Dec 21
January 1: You’re glad you didn’t make a New Year’s Eve resolution to drink any more in 2021 because you don’t think it would be humanly possible.
February 14, 2:51pm: Your stupid habit of always looking at your mobile phone costs you your life when you are struck and killed by a cement truck as you absent-mindedly cross the road. So that’s the end of star signs for you for 2021, squishy!!!
Oh, okay. I hope you’ve learnt your lesson with this timely warning. So here’s a few more, not that you deserve them.
March 13: The winning numbers in tonight’s Super Lotto draw will be…. great if you have them! I’ve left my bank account details and a suggested stipend at The Bug reception.
April 1: You read the editorial in The Courier-Mail saying that the paper is going to be an avid supporter of everything the Annastacia Palaszczuk Labor state government does from now on. “It might be only way to get rid of them,” editor Chris Jones (pictured) writes, “because being viciously and totally opposed to the bastards by trashing all the basic tenets of balanced and professional journalism over recent years certainly hasn’t worked!”
May 4: You explain to your GP that an aversion to needles means a PSA blood test is out of the question so she will have to examine your prostate “the old fashioned way”.
May 18: It’s the second anniversary of the “miracle” election win of Prime Minister Scott Morrison and you wonder how many other people out there also think he remains, first and foremost, an absolute cunt of a human being.
June 12: After watching the full 60 minutes of Channel 9 Sydney’s 6pm news bookended by presenter Georgie Gardner and weathergirl Belinda Russell, you think it might be the first time the entire segment has not had a single solitary male reporter on air and you wonder, firstly, if it’s a world record and, secondly, whether Mike Dalton is sick or there just wasn’t a story silly enough for him to do.
June 22: You feel for the dearheart when you watch a frustrated Tim Wilson on TV call on Anthony Albanese and federal Labor to announce at least one major policy for the next election so he can get on the road with another lengthy taxpayer-funded parliamentary committee that can hold a series of public meetings to distort said policy, damage Labor and raise funds for the Liberals in the process. I mean, really, it’s only the fair and ethical thing to do.
July and August 8: Simply fly by; they really do.
October 31: After a big night out, you wake with a blazing headache, dry mouth and nausea and start to worry that you might have contracted greatnorthernvirus. It was certainly a big sip, a?
November 2: Having never, ever, backed a winner of the Melbourne Cup, you decide not to have your usual $5 each way pensioner bet for the first time in decades and, yes, you’ve guessed it, the horse you would have backed wins in a canter at 50-1.
November 12: You decide that former US President Donald Trump looks fantastic in penitentiary orange jumpsuit and leg irons.
December 22: You lay awake in bed staring at the ceiling, shaking your head ruefully and wondering over and over: surely you must have misheard that pretty girl at the office Christmas party earlier in the night or did she really say she’d like you to kiss her under the cameltoe?
December 31: Each New Year’s Eve you like to make up a slogan that you hope sums up your hopes and aspirations for the year ahead. I’d Like to Pork a Few … In Twenty Twenty Two is one on your short list even though you know it needs work.