You may mock, and you may scoff. I just have scoffed as a matter of fact, a substantial amount of Chinese food but that’s not relevant right now. How can you deny the science behind astrology? How can anyone question the concept of 1/12 of the population of the whole planet having an identical day purely based on which month they were born in. You fucking nay-sayers, always nay-saying. Just open your mind. Next you’ll be saying that mediums are talking toss as well, and that Derek Acorah is a fraud.

Oh, wait… I do say that, don’t I?  Never mind. This is different.

To explain, each month I shall do a detailed prediction and analysis of the star charts for the relevant star sign. Hence this month Libra has the benefit of my galactic insight. All other readers will have to make do with snapshots of what the stars have revealed to me.

Of course for a very reasonable fee, I’ll be happy to give detailed predictions for anyone who is interested. Post a comment with how much you’re willing to pay to know the future (nb: results may vary from predictions. This is only because you have read the predictions, and adjusted your actions accordingly. It’s a space-time paradox. Watch the whole Back to the Future trilogy and you’ll understand.)

And without further ado, I present The Future:

Libra:This month will pose you a number of challenges and seem to skimp on the rewards. Rest assured that the cosmic balance shall even itself out, especially once Neptune has ended its polka through the constellation of Herman the Hyena.

Half way through the month you may find guidance from an unexpected but unquestionable source. Or you may not find it around that time, in which case you deserve all you get from not looking at this website frequently enough. I’m only trying to help, so don’t come crying to me if you were too busy looking for less fortifying material on the internet. And no, it’s not normal to be aroused by videos of women knitting. Get some help you freak.

Anyway, the Mystical Smoking Monkey is not here to judge. I do in any event, but that’s not why I’m here.

Autumnal equinoxes always bring out the soothsayer in me, and this month I have studied the entrails of a squirrel who foolishly ran out in front of the car while storing food for the winter. The message of this alone is clear- stop fiddling with your nuts when you should be paying attention to the traffic.

Examinations of Tufty’s gizzards also suggest that you wil need to invest in hiring a carpet shampoo machine due to a visit from a family member with no stomach for Absinthe. It would also be a good idea to invest in some air freshener as you appear to be runnin low.

Towards the end of the month, you will need to start to plan for a number of financial outgoings. The influence of Tarka the Otter on Mercury means that you should delay these decisions however. The people you were going to buy for don’t actually like you, and they were not going to get you anything in return. You’d be better off buying yourself a nice new teapot and some loose leaf Lapsang Souchong.

In summary, stop naval gazing and reflecting on where you are or what you are doing with your life. Instead take guidance from someone you’ve never met, but who writes in an italic fountain pen. You will know them when you see them.

Quick-fire predictions:

Most likely to be arrested for: attempting to impersonate a glove puppet at a primary school
Drink to avoid: soya milk, and the people who drink it
Lucky hat: the bowler
Weapon to select if challenged to a duel: blowgun and curare-tipped dart
Aura colour: purple
Cause of death: over-zealous happy slap incident by 17 marauding badgers on amphetamine
Lucky bar snack: scampi fries
Pub quiz answer that could win you amazing cash prizes: Word Up, by Cameo (1986)
Unlucky TV programme: Crimewatch
Downfall: gravity, combined with the mistaken belief that your coat is just like Batman’s cape
Astrological allergies: Nitrogen, low fat spreads, and your own eyebrows.

Scorpio: Love is in the air. Not for you, but for your best friend who will then realise that you’re a loser and completely ignore you from now on.

Sagittarius: You will go on a blind date, only to find out your date is actually blind. Being one to make the most of any situation, you try all sorts of shameful actions,  safe in the knowledge that you’ll never be identified. Result.

Capricorn: You celebrate a rare triumph on Monday, when you win a coin-toss for the first time in your life.

Aquarius: Devastation on Sunday when your entire Tupperware collection is struck by lightening.

Pisces: Wednesday will not begin well, when your paperboy has a heart attack. Such a tragic loss at the age of 12, but he was a tubby little bastard. You manage to extract your copy of Heat from his hands, and then focus on retarded celebrities while ignoring the corpse on your doorstep.

Aries: Thursday brings relief when the police confirm that no charges are being brought. Sadly this means you wasted a lot of money on a new identity, and paying a deposit on a caravan in Rio.

Taurus: You will develop a clinical addiction to chestnuts, that will drain your finances faster going to an auction while drunk. And if your name is Bono, you will have the piss ripped out of you by a small but influential blogging website.

Gemini: The influence of Jupiter on you would suggest that it’d be safer all round to just spend Tuesday in a bunker at least 15 feet under ground. It’s better you don’t know why, but say goodbye to any family pets.

Cancer: Fame and celebrity will come calling after you are discovered in a celebrity orgy. This will be followed by crippling embarassment when it’s disclosed that the other participants were the Chuckle Brothers. Cries of “To me, to you” will haunt you for the rest of your life.

Leo: Friday night will end in disaster when a badly constructed fajita unfolds, and coats your shirt with salsa.

Virgo: That rash will clear up in time for the big date, but the stars regret they can’t do anything about your ears.

A few years ago, courtesy of being dragged on painfully lengthy runs by a mate of mine, I was a much more streamlined version of my current corpulant self. However, time (and more significantly a love of fast food and kebabs) have caused my physique to become well wrapped with a few layers of flab. The ultimate humilation has come by virtue of the internet, which informs me that I have a body mass index (BMI) that just slips into the “obese” category. Now, however, it is time to do something about it.

Luckily for someone who’s arse has gradually expanded to try and fill an entire sofa, there are plenty of dvds released in January that are full of minor (and I mean very minor celebrities) showing you how to exercise. Obviously I had more sense than to actually go along with these bits of crap, but I thought I’d share a little bit about the figures we should be aspiring to:

First, let us aim high and slowly sink to the depths. I present Danielle Lloyd. Readers may not be aware of who Ms Lloyd is. Truth be told, I’m not entirely sure what she did to become famous, but last year she was on the ill-fated Celebrity Big Brother, and was possibly the worst of the coven of small minded “racists” who were picking on Shilpa Shetty like vultures on a prize winning cow. Somehow, she managed to avoid the tabloid crucifixion, and unlike Jade Goody didn’t have an effigy burned in the streets of Bombay. When trying to understand why she would escape professionally unharmed, compared to professional pig-dog Jade Goodey, perhaps we should compare the 2.

As opposed to:

Now, I’m not suggesting that the papers would focus attention on someone who had said less offensive things, but was less photogenic… but they REALLY did!

Anyway, Lloyd’s dvd is “…all about having fun whilst giving your body a serious full upper and lower body and cardiovascular workout. Together with the help of personal trainer Steve Rich and celebrity fitness instructor Troy Dureh, this programme has been designed to be fun and energetic but still give you a complete workout. ” To clarify, that means that there is a personal trainer and a fitness instructor who are actually responsible for the workout, but they needed some jumped up bint in lycra to stick on the front cover to appeal to the sweaty Heat-reading huffers who will be deluded into thinking that the model used to look like an orca whale before she started doing a 30 minute aerobic workout once a week.

It’s worth noting that one chunky monkey who did release a dvd after a miraculous weight loss was none other than the moose pictured above… well, the real Jade Goodey at least. Unfortunately for her, she failed to mention the cosmetic surgery that also took place around the time of the reduction in her arse-girth, and inadvertently gave the impression it was all down to her workout dvd. What a mistake to make!

Next, we come to Natalie Cassidy, aka Sonia the frumpy huffer from Eastenders. Now I have been forced to watch Eastenders for the best part of 3 wonderful years with Binky the clown… I mean TS. During that time, I have had to watch this turgid mass of misery slouch round the screen like one of Jabba the Hutt’s sullen teenage nephews. However, it would seem that since leaving the show, Sonia has been unable to afford food, and has lost weight as a result. Unlike danielle Lloyd, at least this celebrity endorsement is made by someone who needed to lose the pounds (says the man inhaling Smarties as he types)

As we can see, she has had some benefits from this workout, and good for her. I hope she lives a longer and happier life as a result. It is quite odd though that she’s morphing into Sarah from Hollyoakes (look it up yourself… I really can’t be arsed finding more photos to titilate you!)

Not to be outdone by their mockney-cockney rivals, the producers of Manchester’s third best export (after Indie Music and mass-marketed MDMA) Coronation Street have pulled out the big guns. Yes, the improbably named Vicky Binns (Molly) has also shed 2 and a half stone as a result of following an easy to follow dvd routine.

This cover also shows the progress made, as if we couldn’t quite imagine that loosing 35 pounds of flab would be a good thing. I particularly like the fixed stare to the left of the picture, like proud citizens earnestly facing the flag in a Soviet propoganda film.

Anyway, that’s probably enough discussion of sweaty celebs in lycra, gyrating passionately on dvd to capture a few more perverts from Google. I took a different approach, on the basis that I am a man and couldn’t give the pope’s scrote about celebrities or aerobics. I spent a small fortune on joining the gym (and a proportionately larger fortune on getting TS a membership as well). Lost over 120 pounds in a single day… now that’s a result!

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And so, I thought I would give a little look at what’s in the papers. It will give our non-UK cousins a chance to get a flavour of the Nation that spawned an empire. In light of this grand aspiration, it is only proper that I use the finest daily publication as my source of news. I speak of course of The Sun:

Starting on a cultural high point, the paper has very patriotically commemorated 300 years of the Treaty of Union between England and Scotland by showcasing “our countries’ gorgeous girls.” It makes a proud Briton’s heart swell to know that the treaty that ended centuries of war, and created one of the leading nations is marked in such a way.

Speaking as a Scotsman of sorts (born in Aberdeen, so that’s enough for me), I am slightly let down by the collection of “tartan totty.” I mean is it really the best we can offer to have Sheena Easton, Lulu, and Lorraine Kelly in the top 10?  And I thought Isla Fisher was Australian (though I may be wrong). I haven’t voted in The Sun’s online poll, but I suspect that the Scots may have to take the runner’s up medal in this one. I’m surprised that they didn’t put Wee Jimmy Krankie in for good measure!

OOH!!! My favourite silicon brain-fart is in the news again, and once more it’s courtesy of poor little… ok, poor lardy… Harvey. The good news is that he’s out of hospital. I must have been working or something when the shock admission to hospital was on the news, as I now feel ashamed for not sending him a get well soon card. Apparently, the 4 year old, partially sighted, disabled child suffered majot burns to his leg. How did he get such injuries? he climbed into a bath and turned on a hot tap, scolding himself in the process.

Once again, to avoid any undue suggestion I’m a heartless bastard, i don’t have a go at harvey because of his condition. However, I do wonder about the high standard of care clearly shown by whoever is probably paid to look after the little mite when he’s not being photgraphed for Heat magazine. Indeed, his injuries were made worse by the fact “his rescuer” (no mention of WHO that actually was… interesting) pulled his jeans off and tore the skin off his leg.

Meanwhile, in the Celebrity Big Brother House, the model who’s shagging terry Sheringham had the misfortune of her top falling down to reveal her bra during a task. The funniest thing was a comment on digital spy saying that she must be devastated at the embarassment. I suspect she’ll get over it, probably by doing a topless photo shoot when she rejoins society.

Girls Aloud star Nadine Coyle’s flat was gatecrashed by a gang of cocaine dealers, looking for a safehouse to store their drugs. The only reason I mention this one really is that it gives me a chance to pass on old information I had that one of the girl-group used to shag the dearly departed Manchester gangster Dessie Noonan. It’s probably for my own good that I can’t remember which girl it was (I expect she has rather good libel lawyers to hand), but I have good authority that Noonan (stabbed to death by his crack dealer a couple of years ago) was once a close acquaintance.

The crowning story HAS to be “My Sex Tape Nightmare” by Keeley Hazell. Now, Ms Hazell is a Page 3 girl, and has probably got her baps out more times in the last 12 months than I’ve had pies. Unfortunately for her, an ex-boyfriend has released a 10 minute video of the pair up to something (The Sun is surprisingly sparse on details), together with still images from the tape “to a downmarket newspaper.”

Hold on there… The Sun, scandel-mongering tabloid rag that it is can class another paper as “downmarket”? That’s even more entertaining that Keeley’s quote that “Now I feel I have no dignity left.”

So what lessons can we learn from these stories?

1. Don’t leave toddlers alone where they can scold themselves

2. If you’re a glamour model and have taken a camcorder on holiday to tenerife, think twice about letting the bloke keep the tape the morning after you’ve had a steamy session

3. In tabloid land, everything can be celebrated with a picture of Kelly Brook

God Save The Queen!

By way of contrast, The Times has articles on how screw caps on wine bottles can give the wine a smell of stink bombs, and a short article dedicated to a word that starts with C and rhymes with blunt. High-brow stuff!

Firstly, I will offer a caution and sincere apologies for my current attitude. I am on a major buzz as i have been read by people other than Techno Scouse (Monkeh to some). I have to be honest, and admit I had my doubts that anyone would read this, let alone enjoy it.

Anyway, today’s rant is brought to you by the vacuous chunks of crap that appear to float on the top of the pool of society. I speak of course of the Celebrity culture, documented by the high-class journalism of Heat magazine.

These people are the scabs that drop off pre-fabricated pop groups, or brain-dead slappers who are only known for banging a married footballer. And instead of gently encouraging these unfortunate wasters to get a proper job, what happens? They spend the next 18 months appearing in magazines (usually retelling the same bullshit stories, or being “spotted” in a London club known as a regular haunt for such no-hopers), or appearing on chat shows such as Trisha offering guidance to the unemployed scrubbers who watch.

Ok… so everyone has to do something in life, whether it’s signing on for benefits, smuggling class A drugs, or joining the rest of us in salaried employment. However, when you have the likes of David Beckham (don’t get me started)’s former PA or that one who shagged Sven Goran Erikson, we have people who are only known for being caught having adultarous affairs with people with a modicum of talent.

What example does this create for the otherwise hopeless kids growing up? The media focus on these tossers so much, that kids actually view them as role models! I am not expecting kids to have realistic, or frankly boring, ambitions like becoming a bin-man or an accountant [I hope to God they aren't deluded enough to want to be criminal lawyers either]. Kids should want to do things that are extreme… that stretch their imagination like being a spaceman, an explorer, or a train driver.

Instead, you get a generation of little girls who want to be a Footballer’s Wife. It pains me to say this… but what happened to feminism???

Lads are quite different- when I was at school (ok, I hate myself for how old that one line has made me sound) there were a few who wanted to be footballers. As one who was very aware of my skills on the pitch (i could bring down anyone, and usually make them think twice about ever touching a football again). Now though, they don’t want to play for united for its own sake, they want it for the trappings of obscene wealth.

So let us have a quick look at the “A-list” celebrities I’m on about:

Chantelle Houghton: This genuine nobody inevitably became a celebrity, when she was put into Celebrity Big Brother as a glorified practical joke. Of course, she went on to win the thing, and marry that humourless twat from the Ordinary Boys (one of the most accurate band names ever). She was nothing, did nothing, and has gone onto achieve… NOTHING.

Jordon: She had tits. She had surgery. She then had big tits. She then had more surgery. Guess what, she got bigger tits. Now have i missed something, or has this girl managed to somehow create something from nothing (with the aid of silicon). As with others, she achieved the start of publicity by shagging pop stars and footballers. Somehow, she has become her own industry. Some say that she has engineered it herself, and deserves credit. Underneath it all though, she’s still just a pair of non-biodegradable norks.

-One footnote on Jordon: her son, Harvey. I have sympathy for anyone who has a child with a disability, and I don’t want to sound like I’m taking the piss out of him because of his condition. I mean that. However, Mrs Peter Andre has turned him into yet another method to stay in the glossy magazines by having to talk about his latest difficulty. If you are under so much strain, how is a magazine article and photoshoot going to help? I know how- BY GETTING PAID FOR IT YOU PARASITE. And in those photoshoots, she is always glammed up, tits hanging out while Harvey is sat on his lardy-arse with one eye on the camera and the other on the wall. It’s seen as cruel for circuses to exploit animals for performances, but fine for a bimbo to use a sick child to get pity and payment. Curious.

Jade Goody: She’s thick. So thick, that she tried to get away with saying her recent weight loss was because of her exercise regime (DVD now available, unsurprisingly). Unfortunately, it had more to do with the liposuction she had.

David beckham: yes he can kick a ball, and I suppose he’s not the ugliest bloke on the planet. But at the end of the day, how is that worth so much money? join me in the Beckham Boycott: Do not buy anything that the pillock advertises. The money that he is paid is not exactly needed. it could educate kids in LA, help the homeless or drug addicts… anything but buy that pillock another fleet of cars.

Victoria beckham: Oh just don’t get me started.

Rebecca Loos: Started by shagging a clothes horse. Last noticed wanking off a pig. That’s quite a carer progression.

Pete Doherty: OK- I wanted to like the Libertines. They looked cool- dressed as Napoleonic generals on tour. But try as I might, I just couldn’t get into the music. Then Pete Doperty (for the record, I’ve not read that pun in any of the tabloids. If it suddenly appears, I want everyone to give me the credit, ok?) gets chucked out of the band because he’s a raging smackhead. I don’t have a problem with drug addicts- they pay the mortgage indirectly. This is the problem- anyone other that that pasty-faced prick would have been remanded in custody the second time he was arrested for drug posession while already on ail for the same offence. Instead, because he has the money to go to the Priory Clinic (instant PR payoff), he just goes on reoffending and gets bail every time. And babyshambles are shit.

Princess Diana” She’s dead. She was not murdered, she was in a road traffic accident and turned into a saint courtesy of the Daily Express. Despite the fact she died 10 years ago, she still made it into the top 10 most mentioned celebrities of last year, simply because the Express did at least 2 covers on her a week. And why? because the people of this country somehow believe she was one of us, and represented that which is good about Britain. But let’s just examine this- she was born into one of this country’s many pointless aristocratic families, groomed into the equivalent of an arranged marriage, and then got divorced after both she and Prince Charles (wait for that blog entry) had affairs. And don’t go on about her bloody charity work… do you REALLY think that when she was wearing body armour in Cambodia, there was the SLIGHTEST risk that a landmine would actually blow her cosmetically sculpted nose back to Highgrove? Don’t talk arse.

-Yes it sucks when anyone dies in a crash, and it’s worse if they have kids. However, the media shit-storm at the time was so overblown that Radio Stations just took requests for songs that meant something to the listeners at that emotional time. Radio 1 hung up when i requested “Ding Dong the Witch is Gone” from the Wizard of Oz. Bastards.

If anyone has any other celebs or comments they wish to share, feel free to post them. Or if you don’t agree, post that too… would be fun to have a second opinion!