Late greetings, my Hexers loyal and true… After a cycle of moons, I greet you here again. February, that sweet season of rising sap is upon us, quickening our blood with the lengthening days. Testosterone and oestrogen sleet through our loins, thickening our passions to fever. Shadows cast their velvet dance across our gleaming skins; nature stirs with lust; the crouching leaves unfurl after their winter slumbers; avian troubadours trill from every tree; the mad hares chase the playful zephyrs; night hides diminished under the brazen eye of heaven.
Why am I so late with this month’s address? Firstly, I was involved in a car crash. Fortunately, the magical wards with which I daily shield myself saved me from serious harm. What further proof is needed to demonstrate the all-weather efficacy off Hex-Me magic? In truth, these wards make me virtually bullet-proof: I live in a zone of occult invulnerability. Sigils of such power deflect all Karmic trials.
Secondly, I have been working love hexes with the peerless Abigail Brown - a rich experience for any man! Sorer Abigail’s hospitality is second to none: from the instant I crossed the threshold of her swamp shack I was plied with the choicest roast Cajun chicken and cool, voluptuous slices of ripe red watermelon… All washed down with sparkling tankards of Abigail’s intoxicating home-brewed ‘Melon Abicade’ – incredible!
I helped with the Hexing requirements of some of her local clients: lovelorn ladies afire for burning kisses, mostly. To watch Abigail at work on a hex is a joy and a privilege. Her intimacy with the Orishas of Santeria is simply awesome: one moment the grinning Baron Samedi himself owns her; the next, Yemaya the Fair has
possessed her cheerful features.
All the while Abigail placates the gods with cakes rich in urine and menses. These are made to her own special recipe, unique objects of occult wisdom. Some she burns as gifts on her small altar, others she greedily crams into her mumbling maw.
I was looking forward to working some profound sex magic with Abigail. This was intended to unify the tradition of Tantrik Sex Magic (represented by myself)and Abigail’s heady brand of home-grown Voodoo. Unfortunately, I found it difficult to truly communicate with Miss Brown: her vocabulary only contains 200 words, and these are all Santeria-related. So, sadly, a glorious opportunity went begging.
However, seeing the great woman in action was a thrill and privilege. Her skills will be available over the March period for all her many fans.
When the Shadows dance, we will speak again.
Labels: monthly address