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The future, revealed

On the sidewalk in front of the shop, nothing interesting happened for a bit, so instead of shooing him away I let some passing man lecture me about astrology. He was wearing a nice suit, looked sane but clearly wasn't, and he told me everything he knew, which was nothing, about what the future holds, as charted by the zodiac.

It's rubbish, of course, but instead of saying "It's rubbish, of course," I took notes on the back of a flyer, and now I'll give you his inside information. Let's you and me meet here again in twenty years, and check whether his predictions are wrong, or wrong:

None of the early front-runners in next year's presidential election have their stars in the right sign, but the Republicans all chart worse than Clinton, so the idiot-expert's prediction is: President Putz will be re-elected. A bold prediction.

The alignment of Jupiter and Saturn clearly indicates that you should sell your entire investment portfolio as soon as possible. Next spring will be 1929 all over again, or so says a random stranger on the street.

The Middle East, he says, will soon face fierce upheavals and unrest. I asked how we'd be able to notice, since that part of the world is always in upheaval and unrest, and Mr Zodiac said again, fierce. Not just upheavals and unrest, but fierce, so let's expect another war over oil, and maybe a global thermonuclear conflagration.

He told me all about the endtimes, coming soon, and you heard it here first: The Anti-Christ will make his appearance in 2007, and seize worldwide power in 2011. Sounds like fun. Hope I'm still around to see it.

Best of all, based on the cusp of the seventh house, and my chakra and date of birth and orb of influence, the stars suggest that May will be an extremely creative month for me, artistically. I never do anything artistic, but maybe I'll doodle a stick-man or something.

You don't want to miss that, so get your order in early: $3 for next month's issue, from Doug Holland, █████████████, San Francisco 94102.

♦ ♦ ♦

Also today, two people on the same tour bus simultaneously lifted their cameras to take my picture. How provincial, dahling. I lifted my skirt an inch higher, to give them a glimpse of my gorgeous gams.

From Pathetic Life #11
Friday, April 28, 1995

This is an entry retyped from an on-paper zine I wrote many years ago, called Pathetic Life. The opinions stated were my opinions then, but might not be my opinions now. Also, I said and did some disgusting things, so parental guidance is advised.

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