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Ramblings of a Jinx
Kinda pointless, since I know people don't read these, but I post 'em anyway.
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Aries is a masculine, cardinal Fire sign ruled by Mars. It is the first sign on the zodiac wheel, directly opposite Libra, and is name for the constellation Aries (the ram), which shouts and struts behind the Sun at this time of year.
On the Darkside, this makes you a loud, overconfident, aggressive thug with way too many Y chromosomes and a will of titanium-clad granite.


ANNOYING HABITS
Punctuality
You are either 30 minutes early, raring to go, and incandescent that everyone else is late, or you turn up four days later at a different venue and are outraged that the expedition went without you.

Toothpaste
After a five-minute rant in the bathroom when you throw everything out of the window looking for your tube of toothpaste, you finally find it in the laundry basket. You hammer if flat with your bare hands.

Temper gauge
0 to boiling point is instantaneous, and occurs roughly every two minutes because people just won't do what you tell them, and you've lost the keys/hammer/remote control/plot

User Image - Blocked by "Display Image" Settings. Click to show.personality
overwhelming, overbearing, overconfident

Brightside astrologers proclaim that you burst with creative energy and confidence, and that you prefer to express yourself through action. Well they would, wouldn't they, especially with your knife to their collective throat? This is just salon talk for laying about you with a meat cleaver when you wish to make a point, isn't it, Aries? You have absolutely no trouble with this year's buzz concept, "Me-time," although you do have trouble with the idea that there might be any other kind.
Greedy aggressive, argumentative, restless, willful, confrontational, headstrong, and self-obsessed, you are the zodiac's permanently enraged adolescent (and just look at the state of your room); you have what nice social workers call "a problem with authoring." Show you a no-entry sign and you are up the forbidden highway like a ferret up a drainpipe. No one has ever explained the phrase "consequences-of-your-actions" to you (mostly because you won't stand still long enough, and even if you were nailed to the floor, you still wouldn't listen). Consequently the nation's ERs are an Arien's second home.
Subtle you're not; no one will ever find you sitting quietly in a corner brooding on life's great mysteries, or sitting quietly anywhere. You blunder through the world like Tigger gone rogue, looking for new frontiers to smash. Fortunately you can be easily distracted by bright lights, loud noises, meat, blood, fire, and knives. On good days, this means a neighborhood barbecue; on bad days, World War III.
You generate a kind of low-frequency tetch field all around you, which unnerves the rest of us, and can be condensed into a stamping rage by practically anything. Lost your keys? House turned upside down, loved ones lambasted, doors slammed off hinges. And instructions for anything from a flatpack to a cruise missile are torn up in a rage (nobody tells Aries what to do!) before you get part step one.
Have you ever willingly finished anything in your life? You're just one big booster rocket, all fired up for blastoff, and falling away as soon as our boredom threshold (usually around sea level) is reached. Some of you can't even get to the end of a sentence before moving on, which is probably why the military speak is speedily articulated acronyms.
Pathologically, addictively competitive, you have to come first in everything, even if it's only a spitting contest, and you will do anything to win, as your concept of fair play means that you triumph. This extends to your kids, whom you are likely to disown if they don't win a Nobel prize, the World Series, and an Oscar.
Your political opinions are strongly held: bigoted and extreme. The doctrine is irrelevant--it's the extreme part you like, along with the street fighting and mob violence. Many Ariens become politicians. How scary is that? Aberrant Ariens who show a mild interest in other life forms can clean up by running elite assertiveness-training courses--although the rest of you wonder why anyone would have to give ammo to the competition.


b***h rating
C+. Think about it: bitching demands subtlety and finesse, neither of which your Bad Fairy Godmother left in your cradle. If you want to say something nasty about someone, you don't sneak around; you just open your mouth and blast away. Refreshing, in a strange way.

Collective noun
A safety tip for non-Ariens. You may find yourself, for some bizarre zodiacal reason, in a room full of Ariens (perhaps your local slaughterhouse is hosting an open even in the spirit of community outreach). The air is thick with testosterone, and thrums with shouting and the sound of keen blade-whetting. You have rashly stumbled into a Headbutt of Aries. Run away.

FAVE DEADLY SIN
You simply do not have the time for anything intellectual, or namby pamby, so you go straight for Wrath, or Anger: a big, strong, all-terrain sin that's just as unhelpful halfway up K2 as it is in a downtown gridlock. It's straightforward, uncomplicated, and requires hardly any brain power (it's just a matter of coupling mouth and fists to your awesome irascibility drive). Plus you get to do the shouting. In your quieter moments, you might consider Greed; it makes a useful indoor sin for the older Arien whose form is slipping.

User Image - Blocked by "Display Image" Settings. Click to show.blame your planet
the red menace

If you are feeling even more hot-eyed and steam-driven that usual, your children are cowering behind a bunker of cereal boxes at the breakfast table, strong men are crossing the road to avoid you, and the world is bathed in a red mist, is this your fault? Is it, punk? Not entirely. Blame your planet. If your case, it's Mars.
Mars knows where we live. In fact the red, glowering psychopath is our next-door neighbor, fourth rock from the Sun. Isn't that comforting? Somehow the fact that it's only half Earth's size doesn't really help. It stalks our orbit at half speed, so we can always see it just out of the corner of our eye. Worse, it has two hench-moons called--wait for it--Deimos and Phobos, or fear and loathing. They're tiny, but they do a menacing double act. Deimos, a midget made entirely of black rock, is in synchronous rotation with the boss; this means it doesn't rise or set--it's a constant eyeball in the sky. Phobos, au contraire, the hyperactive one, pops up every five hours, just when you thought it was safe. The Martian atmosphere is almost entirely carbon dioxide; this is what happens when you are so angry with your mom and the cosmos that you hold your breath until you go red in the face.
Mars is named for the Roman god of war. Adored and worshiped by the Roman army, he was a remix of an ancient agricultural god and the Greek god of war, Ares, notorious on Mount Olympus as a violent but stupid, bloodlusty braggart. Ares, Aries--you see what's happening here?


User Image - Blocked by "Display Image" Settings. Click to show.who's got your number?
check out the opposition

Your polar opposite sign is Libra: duplicitous, insincere, detached, and terminally indecisive. What would an adrenaline-fueled action junkie like you want with an indolent, vacillating, self-indulgent couch hogger like your average Libran? How did you come to this--shall we say--understanding? Well, like good cop and bad cop, or arch villain and fixer, you need each other to make the Darkside work for you. It's all about element (undesirable ones, of course). You are Fire; Libra is Air. So it's only right that Libra should stand around admiring your big red firetruck as you rush to put out fires you probably started in the first place. Fire cannot burn without oxygen...
As you thrust and strut about the world, issuing orders and going purple in the face if everyone does not leap to attention at once, don't you sense deep down the enigmatic smile and raised eyebrow of the zodiac's lounge lizard mocking the way you waste so much energy on pointless shouting and tantrums? Ever wonder how a reckless, headstrong, inconsiderate bigot like you has managed to stay alive for so long?
Respect your inner Libran; it's the one that makes you look before you leap (sometimes); it surrounds you with a low but adequate mental guardrail of self-preservation that counteracts your death wish. Of course, if it gets too harmonious in there, you are stripped of your rank and made to get a real job.


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hard, fast, competitive

Sex is just another extreme sport as far as you are concerned, and you don't like to waste time; foreplay is for wimps. You are strictly a notches-on-the-bedpost kind guy (or girl), so you like to multitask sometimes. Your Little Black Book is almost ready to be cataloged by the Library of Congress. You always need to be told that you are the first (and naturally, best) lover that your partner's had, ever; you don't bother to do the social math that proves this is impossible without virginity becoming a renewable resource. Your affairs burn with a gemlike flame for, oh, several days, during which time you are extravagantly possessive and jealous every time your prey steps out for a comfort break. Lust does not, however, quench your competitive spirit. You have to do it harder, faster, longer, and quicker than anybody else, and of course you always have to come first. (You silently count your partner's orgasms just to make sure you are not being outclassed.)

DARKSIDE DATE
Not getting a date is not an option. You are a stranger to low self-esteem. You are so insensitive and persistent that people usually give in and accept, just for a quiet life. Mind you, then the game is half over for you; what you like best about dating is the chase. You are oppressively ardent and romantic, forever sending vulgar bouquets or organizing platoons of troubadours to warble all night long under your love object's window, even after the noise police have been summoned. Your ideal date, achieved after much enjoyable hunting, is with a gorgeous socialite who is way out of your league, so that you can show off in front of your rivals. This glittering prize must not criticize anything you do, or look at another person in your presence, but when you are bored, they can leave.

What kind of love rat are you?
The worst. It's the winning, you see; the fighting off of all rivals, or defeating overwhelming odds (are are in Hawaii, they are in Alaska; they are Amish, you are a Texas Ranger, etc.); once you've got the prize, it's no longer what you want. You wander off to find a new challenge, abandoning the poor sap who believed you when you said you'd slash your writs with a rusty blade if they did not come with you to be your love.

IMCOMPATIBILITY RATING
Aries--this is how two tribes end up going to war.
Taurus--you want to command the world; they want to own it.
Gemini--they swear loyalty, but are on a mission from the enemy.
Cancer--you want to find the final frontier; they insist that you take a packed lunch.
Leo--you'll let them be king, if you can drive the tanks.
Virgo--secretly love clearing up all your mess and rubble.
Libra--will sap your strength with luxury, then betray you.
Scorpio--effective double act; noisy, violent bad cop and menacingly silent bad cop.
Sagittarius--they outclass you in the reckless daredevil stakes.
Capricorn--they control your war chest and ration the bullets.
Aquarius--always have a superior chess strategy.
Pisces--slavishly ready to play soldiers to get your approval, but only pack a water pistol.


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leader of the pack

It's not that you don't want to relate, it's just that you can't do one-to-one, because you are the only one in the world. Do you see the difficulty? If only your friends and lovers would think of themselves as your flock, everything would fall into place. All they have to do is follow the flock rules you have kindly drawn up, which are: 1) do everything you say; 2) admire your every action; 3) never, ever criticize anything you do.
For all your leadership skills, you are a very poor judge of character, mainly because all sheep look the same to you, and you think empathy is a mild skin disease. You have no idea how a network functions, since you only know about linear chains of command that extend from you to everyone else. You have to be in control at any social event., even when you're a guest. Secretly you'd love there to be an emergency, so that you could show off. You insist on running your friends' and family's lives for them: they call you the drill sergeant behind your back; you're flattered. Plus, you get ragingly jealous if any of your friends demonstrates the slightest ability to do anything a nanometer better than you (and that includes breathing), or wins a prize in a competition you didn't enter. Then you are forced to cut them loose from your circle and get in new stock.
When it comes to romance, you have to make the running, otherwise the game is declared null and void. You fall in love hard and often, but out of love just as frequently, often just hours later.


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my way or nothing

Some of the workforce simply will not follow your orders without question. Alright, so you are "only" the janitor, but is that the point? You resign or, more likely, smash your broom over your knees, toss the pieces at the boss, and march off, leaving others to clear up the mess.
You see, you have to run the show (although you don't need to be seen to, like Leo). Obviously you know better than anyone else how to do any job, even though you have no experience. You work on the principle that shouting with confidence and acting aggressive are the answer to everything, and the sad thing is you are almost right. Myopic employers hire you for your energy, direction, and drive (why, if you're that good, are you so available?). So you crash around, alienating the workforce and tearing down all old systems, but not putting in anything to replace them, because you don't do detail; then they pay you off before the writs are served. Astute employers hire you to run down perfectly viable companies for barely legal tax reasons.
Brash, crass, and insensitive, you are a nightmare to work with because you never listen, you are morbidly competitive, you are always throwing hissy fits, and you can't stand being told what to do. The most you can deal with is one boss above you, usually a Scorpio with a big stick.
And if it all goes wrong, and you're fired--it happens--not for you the lawsuits and reconciliation services; you sneak around on a dark night with a Molotov cocktail and torch the place.


DREAM JOBS
It's strange how everyone in your office keep finding ads for jobs in faraway places and leaving them on your desk or desktop. Perhaps they sympathize with your restless spirit; perhaps they just want some peace and quiet. Here are a couple of useful suggestions:

Explorer
Fantastic! Be the first to hack your way through virgin rainforest, scale an unclimbed alp, or cross an uncharted desert. Spit in the face of caution, and local advice. Win a posthumous knighthood.

Firefighter
Now you're really in your element! Fire, danger, big sharp axes, shiny red appliances to ride on, and the chance to be a real hero every day. Avoid starting the odd conflagration just because the day's a bit slow.

User Image - Blocked by "Display Image" Settings. Click to show.crimes and misdemeanors
how bad could it get?

So what sort of criminal would you be, if sociopathy became the new world order? How would you spend your days (or maybe your nights) if you really lived on the Darkside? Well, you are the zodiac's tough dude, and you're not telling me that in your younger days you weren't pretty darned lucky not to be caught red-handed at the scene of various juvenile crimes. Ramraiding, for instance. Threatening behavior. Assault and battery. Burglary.
And after you had paid society's price for your infant crime spree, you would be well connected enough to set up a gang of your own. Mind you, this might be a bit of a disaster, as you lack the cool brain and meticulous planning gene that typifies a criminal mastermind; your big heist would go wrong because you lost the getaway vehicle keys, or even the vehicle itself. Your short fuse and physical strength make you a useful bit of muscle, which is fine by you, but you report only to Mr. Big. You are far too impatient for cerebral stuff like fraud, but safe-blowing might be alluring.
It's not that you disrespect the law, not as such. It's just that you just can't stand being told what to do. So you do as you like. Then you end up before the judge, where you can't stand being told what to do, again, and get extra time for contempt of court. And when you can no longer get bail and are locked up, you may find it's not so bad. You love a challenge, and pretty soon you will be the leading light of the escape committee, going over the wall at regular intervals.


WHEN RAMS GO WRONG
Aries crimes nearly always get spectacular media coverage, mostly because you almost always get caught (unless you're working with Scorpio). What did I tell you about attention to detail and keeping quiet? And do you listen? However, there are a couple of little jobs...

Enforcer
Many a Mr. Big relies on your notorious Irritable Thug Syndrome when clients get out of order; but you can get overenthusiastic and end up, quite unintentionally, on a manslaughter charge. Doh!

Arsonist
Burn, baby, burn! Herostratus is your role model: he was the tenth-rate architect who burned down the Temple of Artemis squillions of years ago, just so that people would remember his name. That's not crime; that's art.

User Image - Blocked by "Display Image" Settings. Click to show.at home
the mess hall

A few millennia from now, archaeologists will think grateful thoughts about those ancient Ariens (tentatively classified as the Gadget People) who never even considered tidying up and so left a rich seam of artifacts to illustrate life in the 21st century. The purpose of all those lockless keys, cell phone carcasses, nostril hair cutters, Swiss army knives, and unidentified bits of plastic will tax the greatest brains. They will deduce that you used to worship the god Honda, symbolically represented by a stripped-down motorbike kept on a tablelike altar, and so sacred that the whole household used to eat their meals around it.

DOMESTIC DISHARMONY
Aries--you will be blacklisted by the cleaning agency.
Taurus--they may be good for a new kitchen, but they won't let you share it.
Gemini--they will find and hock your granny's silver teaspoons that you thought you'd lost.
Cancer--will tidy up, but kvetch about it; as you never listen, that don't bother you.
Leo--only desperate, exiled, rogue lions need apply.
Virgo--constantly tut-tutting under their breath about something they call bleach.
Libra--will leave when they find out about the bathroom, and that all the mirrors are cracked.
Scorpio--they step over your muck into the pristine minimalist cube of their own room.
Sagittarius--true mess mates; won't notice anything.
Capricorn--will put things away in logical places so that you can never find them.
Aquarius--it's OK, because they're from planet Zog, so believe all Earthlings live like this.
Pisces--tetchy about mess, but happy to add more to it, especially empties.


Decor
How best to describe the Aries home style? Junkyard Transitional perhaps? A persistent offender, you have never knowingly finished a renovation job. So wallpaper is half stripped, there are 49 shades of paint on the woodwork, and you unplumbed the entire bathroom last year and now use a system of buckets. Your more zeitgeisty friends suspect you may be in the vanguard of a hot new trend.

Sharing the Aries slum
You find it difficult to retain partners, staff, or housemates, but can't think why. Alright, the spare room is full of back copies of Hot Rod Magazine and the refrigerator only works when you kick it, but it's great for parties, and your sound system is bangin'.

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the darkside of fun

Like all Fire signs, you are unbearable anywhere the Sun don't shine. No Arctic breaks with extreme lemming racing for you, then. Avoid vacations that involve just you, a quiet tropical beach, and your partner--especially on your honeymoon--because it will end in divorce: you don't do repose, and there is no fun bossing just one disciple around. Foreign city breaks find you braying at bar staff, hoteliers, cab drivers, and anyone else whose language you don't speak, just to assert yourself. And don't even think about hiring a villa with a bunch of pals, unless you have established that you will be running the temporary household (make sure the group contains a Cancerian to mop up after you).
What you'd really like is an action adventure vacation with the boys (even if you're a girl). And what would make it even better would be the outbreak of a smallish local war, so that you could do a little leisurely freedom fighting.


Vacations from hell
* A luxury world cruise with Taurus, Leo, and Libra; you have to throw yourself over the side or die of cabin fever.
* A guided tour of anywhere; although you've never been there before, you know far more about the place than the guide who's lived there all his life, and you will not hesitate to say so. Loudly.
* Anywhere on your own; you'd be lost without a docile pack to boss around and lead into dangerous new pastures.


Road rage
Although you single-handedly invented this social phenomenon, you think road rage is a base slur; it's just legitimate issue-raising with the visually challenged incompetents who throng your roads, idling along in your lane at the tired old national speed limit rather than at the Arien version. You don't need a map, because you always know where you're going; anyway you tore it up in a fit of rage and threw it out of the window fifty miles back. You always drive, even if it's not your car.

Gamesmanship
The universe will cease to be if you don't win every game you play, and every race and competition you enter. A founder member of Competitors Anonymous, you could turn a senior citizen's spelling bee into Fight Club. If the laws of physics are repealed and you lose, you must kill the winner, and all other competitors, to blot out the shame; and take your ball home.





 
 
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