Bastrology

Many Bastards find they take little or no pleasure in regular astrology, so here is a column just for us.

by Charon Dunn-Roff, cdroff@pacbell.net

(This feature first appeared in the Spring/Summer 1998 issue of the Bastard Quarterly.)

The Signs of the Bastard Zodiac and their horoscopes:

Nebula, The Amorphous Mass
(Mardi Gras) Sorry, your homscope is sealed. You'll need a court order to find out what it says, and by the time the judge gets back from Maui the week will be over anyway, so what's the point?

????. The Mysterian
(Summer) Your birth family will call you this week and tell you how much they love you and inform you that you're in the will for an equal share of gaanddaddy's billions. Ha ha, just kidding! You should have seen the way your little face lit up! Bastards are so cute when they make that wistfiil expression.

Unidentified, The Flying Object
(The night all those crop circles appeared in the south field) The government will fmally contact you this week when you're awake (instead of secrefly drugging you and taking tissue samples they way they've been doing all along) and divulge the truth about your origins. However, you won't OFFICIALtY exist after this happens, so it's been nice knowing you.

Kablammo, The Death Star
(Labor Day Weekend) Join the Dark Side of the Force this week. It is your destiny.

Ungrateful, The Wretch
(God must not want you to know) You should just fall down on your knees and thank the Lord that he's chosen to let you live another week, just like your family chose you. Why would you possibly want to know more? Don't you realize it will break your poor mother's heart?

Casper, The Friendly Bastard Ghost
(About three weeks before the blizzard) You'll get lost in a big city this week, where you'll reunite estianged couples, rescue doomed puppies, cheer up depressed millionaires and amaze every- one with your pluck and street smarts.

Voido, The Black Hole
(Error: File not found) Ever wonder if this interest in astrology is genetic? How about the way you brush your hair away from your ear? Your adoptive parents never do that. Interesting, isn't it?

Sleazy, The Slut
(Right around the time the twelfth Elvis movie came out) You'll have passionate, torrid sex this week, just like you did last week and probably the week before, with all sorts of people, in several interesting positions, but just make sure you act responsibly and use protection. You wouldn't want to wind up having an accident.

Gack, The Brussel Sprout
(Just exactly eight months before our son--I mean, your brother, was born-- isn't it funny how often that happens?) Your real parents aren't human. It's time for you to replicate, and if you fail to merge with a member of your own species within the next 48 hours, you'll mutate into a large carnivorous plant.

Yvronyn, The Chanqellnq
(Monday) A unicorn with butterfly wings will come to return you to the land of your true origin, where animals can talk and magic pixies live in a shady glen where they play pixie music on little flutes all day.

Inc., The Cable TV Satellite
(Around the episode where Miss Kitty and the Marshall had a falling out just when some cattle rustlers were heading into town...) You're a postmodern 90s kinda person, and your best childhood memories come from television anyway. Stop giving yourself grief over your a, b and C parents this week. Write a fan letter to your favorite TV star instead.

Xerox, The Clone
(Four days before you think it is... heh heh heh) You'll discover all 14,000 of your birth siblings this week, as you uncover a fiendish plot to rule the world instigated by an insane scientist.

Charon Dunn-Roff's astrology column annoys people around the world, and is published in the San Francisco Bay Guardian, the Long Island Voice, occasionally in New Zealand and on the web at www.SFBayGuardian.com.

She is an Island Bastard from Maui, and originally became interested in astrology while trying discern facts about her origins through various occult methods, all of which seemed more attractive than the closed records system. After years of painstaking research, Charon finally obtained her original birth certificate, which confirmed that her birth occurred under mysterious and secret circumstances.

As only her birth mother is named on the certificate, space alien sperm transplants can't be entirely ruled out at this time.

(This feature first appeared in the Spring/Summer 1998 issue of the Bastard Quarterly.)