Cranky Large Medium reading, 14 June

Go away.

Why is it you're still here? Can't you hear your mother calling? Or is it your wife? Or your life? Why won't you return the call? You never write, either. So, without permission you come here to plague a poor medium. Why is that? Oh, you want a reading, do you? If I give you one, will you leave me in peace? I think I can make the appropriate arrangements. Here you are:

You are one of those decent people: generous, kind, and considerate. You are capable and reliable and have a keen, active mind, are diplomatic and aggressive. You make friends easily and are fortunate in having a congenial trend of common interests. You are usually happy and contented and require love to keep your happiness. Everybody else hates you. I kick dust in your general direction.

Are you happy, now? I'm not. But then, I don't suppose what I offer you will quite stand up to your life as it is. And, hey, your life beats the alternative, which is all most people born on this earth have. After all, on this date in history, these all became fertilizer squares: Emperor Qinzong, Pierre Charles L'Enfant, Adlai Stevenson I, Kurt Waldheim, William Le Baron Jenny, Simon Sudbury, Roger Zelazny, Edward FitzGerald, Jerome K. Jerome, Gilbert K. Chesterton, Salvatore Quasimodo, Mary Cassatt, Hans Poelzig, Orlande de Lassus, Alan Jay Lerner, Erna Berger, Rory Gallagher, Esbjörn Svensson, Robert Middleton, Richard Jaeckel, Dame Peggy Ashcroft, Eddie Eagan, Bernie Faloney, Dale Whittington, Giovanni Borgia, Max Weber, Emmeline Pankhurst, Ruth Graham,

and Henry Mancini.

Don't jump the Gunn.
Happy birthday, anyway.