The Weird Turn Pro

It looks like I missed my chance at winning a big big jackpot last night. It was supposed to happen between 12:30 and 1:00 a.m., at Paris. I was supposed to pick a machine facing east, and the payout would have been $2000.

But that's okay, because within the next six months I'm going to meet and marry a man who is loaded. He's older than me and has salt and pepper hair and lots and lots of money from working in some kind of international import/export business. We're going to have two kids and live in Florida.

So says the psychic Suz and I met on the corner of Las Vegas and Flamingo last night, which raises the following question: if you're actually psychic and live in Las Vegas, why is it that you're doing readings for tips with random strangers on the strip?

She also told us that the Massachusetts state government is about to collapse because Deval Patrick is currently under double secret investigation from the FBI, and that I shouldn't move to California because I have some kind of prejudice against Mexican culture of which I am unaware. This is clearly wrong, because everyone knows I really hate the Norwegians.*

I'm also going to make my own boatload of cash by editing some project that will make $40 million worldwide, even though there won't be a movie made of whatever this project is. Perhaps I underestimated that manuscript about the Nazi scientists attempting to clone Jesus Christ.

One prediction she offered that I found believable was her assertion that Suz and I will be friends for another four or five decades. It's comforting to know that after the abuses we've put ourselves through this week, we might still have the chance to live that long.

And this man I'm going to meet, obviously a reference to my imminent marriage to George Clooney... or, more likely, Sam Axe.

*I do not hate Norwegians.