by Pat Robertson
Recently, I divulged some predictions for 2008, predictions I’m sure you’ll find no less accurate than some of my earlier endeavors. I did, however, express some uncertainty and reluctance, so let me clear the air.
Sometimes God and I just don’t gel with appointment times. Like I’ll say, “Hey God, is it possible to chat Thursday night? I have to go to my son Gordon’s adult t-ball league game tonight.”
Then God says, “Thursday, Thursday, Thursday, hmmm — actually, Thursday’s no good, I got this book club thing.”
So we have to compromise. “OK, God, prophetize whenever you want, but I might be doing something else — like using the Nordic track while listening to Collective Soul on my iPod or drinking cough syrup and reading the Bible in my darkened room.”
Which brings me to my two most major predictions, received in a moment of unquestionable clarity as I was accusing the girl at the Arby’s drive-thru of being a lesbian:
Prophecy the First: The president will be a democrat and that democrat will be me, because I intend to clone myself and then run for president under both platforms. Whichever identity wins has to kill the other and do things like convert China to Christianity. The winner must also destroy gay wizards (who live in trees and shoot Christians with arrows that make them abort their children).
Prophecy the Second: Those Zubaz pants with a professional sports team’s colors made into zig zags will return to prominence, along with those neon tank tops that have things like a surfing frog or dinosaur on them. As a result, Gordon will have to stop ripping on old dad at the beach.
Wait, what’s that God? I should grow some sideburns? Homosexuals encode diabolical messages in Guitar Hero songs?
More to come …
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