Well, contrary to the predictions of the super-wonky, doomsday psychic, the world seems to still be in about as good as shape as it could be, I suppose. In fact, this psychic's fraudulent claims were confirmed by a phone call I received yesterday.
The caller-ID noted that the call was a "New York call," and when I answered, the voice on the other end spoke in a blur about the joys of refinancing my mortgage.
For a moment, I felt somewhat guilty for toying with her emotions. I'm not a mean person, by nature, and I tend to strive for politeness when dealing with telemarketers. However, when the call comes at dinner time, all bets are off, and my guilt was quickly erased at the thought of this poor telemarketer sitting on the other end with the dial-tone dully humming in her ear and wondering just what the hell had happened.
P.S. Yes. That is an eagle banging its head against a rock. It probably has something to do with the eggs, I'll bet.