Behold, when the hail is like gallstones from an acid sky,
A venomous meerkat shall slink among the boston ferns
And produce hideous wailing
His shield, his garlic breath
Oh not ANOTHER thead on WildestBill!
I predict that, within six months, this will turn up in my inbox credited to Nostradamus, and that it will have a Snopes page dedicated to it.
At the count of 14
On the fifth day after the New Moon
The great boulder shall be split
And from within a crow shall caw
Turn from the fire
Face the wall
Hey, I didn’t know that Cirq De Soleil was in Chicago ! Cool !
When with one eye closed
the Minions of the Cecillian Millenia doth
Gaze upon the setting full moon
Swollen with the light of evil
Only then shall the Fest Begin.
Wraiths hailing cries of foulness down upon
The Banned and Baned.
Small imps and widgets amongst us, selling inferior knives at inflated prices.
Crushed velvet bodices straining eagerly against turgid skin.
When the collumnation of the adoration leads to the
Indoctrination of the Conflagration, and the
Sperm of the Spawn spilt upon the berm near the lawn,
All shall become clear unto us.
Oh-Mane.
And one shall come amongst you
that hath psychic powers.
Yet the sceptics* shall decry him, saying
“Why dost thou not claim the dosh**?”
And yet there shall be no reply.
For the mentalist shall be too busy
Counting his wad*
Obtained from the gullible.
*the author is believed to be an English mystic
**some versions of the prophecy have a scribbled note in the margin: http://www.randi.org
*And when that time doth come
To begin with a two and end in a one
With two noughts in between
them,
There shall arise a Great Beast in the
State where they have blue grass and not
Green but it’s still quite a
Good smoke it just looks strange, that’s all,
Anyway, this Beast of which I speak
Will storm the bastions of
Churchill Downs by winning the Derby a shade
cosily under Kent Desormeaux,
The name of the Great Beast is
Fusaichi Pegasus and the word is that it
Can’t lose unless the jockey falls off it so get your
Money on now lest it be Too Late.*
And wouldn’t you know it but the Great Beast
Duly obliged last flippin’ year and I wasn’t ‘on’ the
Bugger. I must have pressed the wrong button on the
Flippin’ calculator again.
At the dark hour it will be heard,
A great moaning of the Slavic man.
The snake will be exposed
As it spew forth it’s venom to the linens.
Interpret that!
In the first of the new hundred
The king of the waterfront
Will rise in the East
To rule the skies
The nine from the shrine
Shall fall dead in the ninth month
For the umpteenth frickin’ time
Amongst their faithful followers
kind of reminds me of last night…oh wait, i’m not slavic.
Helvetica’s wings will beg for alms, and the bearded nobleman will release the new helios from his patronage.
The general-king of the Orient quakes with fear, more from his subjects, than his enemies.
The skull-faced trator-smith parlays with the Eagle: the rebel province bought for a nod.
Ranchoth
In Lusitania, the younger brother will overpower the elder
He will cross to Torino
Arles, Provence, and Nice will open to him
Out of Piedmont, a great fire.
*All females, be wary
And heed the warning, I beseech
A man who is Super
Shall rise from amongst the masses
To attempt to repopulate
With his Super seed
It is best to let him,
The prophesy holds*
In the first year after the disputed ascension
Capricon, Mars, Saturn in zero
Does mark the rise of the sloth
With blood and suffering to avenge
a multitude of foreskins.
If you pick that, you’ll be disappointed.
If you move your hand down and over, your day will be brighter.
I can’t make this a spooky quatrain, so sue me. Or sue Sue. Whatever.
Civile se ergo
Fortibus es inero
Novile deus trux
Vatis inem…causan dux
“And on the twentieth day of the month of Festing
There shall in the City of Angels
Descend forms so grotesque and vile
As to turn everything they touch to insult
And shall imbibe of drink and merriment
And leave a lousy tip.”
(Hey, I think I just predicted Dopetoberfest!)
Esprix