By now your mystical, “something bad going to happen there,” violator of Deuteronomy 18, slutty, astrologer, shape-shifting, hypocritical, sure to go to Hell, friends have figured out a doozy is due on FEBRUARY 24, 2010.
Have they figured it out yet?
Is it something world-wide, Nibiru related?
The death of Jimmy Iovine?
The death of Pat Robertson or Dr. Schuller?
The death of Snoop or LL?
The death of Talan or Lewis?
The death of Beyonce or Rihanna?
The partitioning of Persia?
The death of Diddy or Z?
The death of Ringo or Paul?
The death of Keeanu or Keala?
The death of Jodie or Minnie?
Do I turn your friend Neelam, Lusty accessory, Dragon Lady, pathetically bad liar, wrong choice, Kamil’s my boyfriend but I don’t really keep close tabs on him, gun was pointed at the baby on my staff, not the girl on the rear of the camel at San Jose’s merry go round, had to take a picture of with phone with a camera in it, Head in a Box, Snake Eyes, you’ve got as much of a chance to be saved by Nicole as did Steve Fossett, I had to leave Marina Harbor before Muhammad arrives, Vashi into a Medusa?
The Big One in California?
Or do you finally close your book and say “Goodnight, Nicole”