Cranky Large Medium reading, 13 February

Go away.

Why are you still here? Did somebody say you could stay? Certainly not I. So, whoever it was you heard tell you, you need to adjust your meds so you can't hear those voices again. Oh. You just came for a reading, and then you'll skedaddle? Tee- freakin'-riffic. Here you are, then:

You are irritatingly bubbly and golly-gee-whiz unceasingly upbeat, and, yet, surprisingly, concerned for others' rights. You need to believe you are cultured, so you expend much energy on art and literature, without fully comprehending what it is your eyes are taking in, and still manage to fool people into thinking you have good taste. In love affairs, you are fickle and inconstant. Why don't you try growing up?

Are you happy, now? Of course not. That would be the mature response. But look on the bright side of things: at least you're better off than these people, all of whom, on this date in history, quit maturing and began to go ripe: Kenneth I of Scotland, Minamoto no Sanetomo, Andronikos II Palaiologos, Elizabeth Stuart, George Rogers Clark, Dame Christabel Pankhurst, Jan Łukasiewicz, Werner Heyde, Nikolay Bogolyubov, James Cooke Brown, Emilios T. Harlaftis, Pope Honorius II, Cotton Mather, Jean Baptiste Lamy, Lúcia Santos, Stephen Gosson, Rafael Sabatini, Lloyd C. Douglas, Josephine Tey, Benvenuto Cellini, Jacopo Bassano, Gian Paolo Lomazzo, Konstantin Savitsky, Albert Gottschalk, Richard Wagner, Waylon Jennings, David Janssen, Martin Balsam, Andrew C. "Andreas" Katsulas, Mae Marsh, Kid Gavilan, Nelson Briles, Dick Weber, Catherine Howard, Miles Sindercombe, Robert Klark Graham, Charlie Norwood, Richard Gordon Wakeford,

and Lily Pons.

Hell's bells! Isn't it just Lakme to stick this in here?
Happy birthday, anyway.