Cranky Large Medium reading, 31 January

Go away.

Aren't you gone, yet? Why the heck not? Don't you have any respect for a working medium's privacy? Or is it that you don't understand plain English? Oh, you're waiting for something... a reading. Well, why didn't you say so earlier? I could have had you done and gone before any of this conflict arose. So. Allow me. Here you are:

You dream big, but lack the ability to follow through. As your mother told you years ago, you could be somebody, a contender, if you ever got off your lard-bottom and quit being a nobody, which is what you are. Fancy yourself an artist, because you have the temperament. It doesn't work that way. Art, like anything, requires effort for you to find success in it, so you'll probably kiss that goodbye. You are fond of children. Don't let the authorities catch you at it, though.

Are you happy, now? Of course not. Too bad you have to be "artistic". At least you have things better than these people, all of whom on this date in history, gave this life its final brush-off: Emperor Sukō, Xuande, Charles Edward Stuart, Joost Bürgi, John Cheyne, Edwin Howard Armstrong, Claudio Aquaviva, Johannes Clauberg, John Bosco, Charles Spurgeon, John Mott, Jean Mairet, John Galsworthy, A. A. Milne, Gordon R. Dickson, Molly Ivins, Gil Kane, William Randolph "Cozy" Cole, Samuel Goldwyn, George Abbott, Lee Bergere, Moira Shearer, Eddie Tolan, Norm Zauchin, Eleanor Holm, Guy Fawkes, Ambrose Rokewood, Thomas Wintour, Eddie Slovik, Ernesto Miranda,

and James Moore aka Slim Harpo.

My itch I don't want you to scratch.
Happy birthday, anyway.