You have indubitably seen this in movies or in stupid people. A person goes to a psychic, the psychic things “Good, time to fleece another sucker” and spews a load of crap on how the victim will find happiness and meet a supermodel and get married, but he never will, because he’s a dumb fatass who goes to psychics to tell him what he can read on Porocrom for free. After all that cold reading crap, the psychic gives him a little treat and tells him what he was in a past lifetime, which is invariably either Napoleon or a Pharaoh.

The question I pose to you, members of this alleged jury, is this: Why do hot women hit on you and then call you the next day, go out with you and never call again? Since I am afraid none of you will be able to answer this questions because you’re all virgins, I will ask another one: Why is noone an insurance salesman or Egyptian slave #1928391 or a homeless bum? Seriously, there are six billion people on the planet right now and they were all Napoleon. Napoleon may have had MPD but he sure as hell didn’t have three billion personalities. Imagine three billion personalities all fighting over what you should do next. He wouldn’t be able to brush his teeth, let alone conquer stuff. Besides, if the Hindus have it right, the original Napoleon is a bug right now.

That notwithstanding, I decided to go to a psychic to learn what I was in a previous life. I didn’t find any psychics in my area so I did the next best thing, I asked a hooker. Her response wasn’t very helpful: “Past life? Look, if you got cash I’ll fuck, if not, g’away”. I hit her over the head with a lead pipe like I do in GTA: San Andreas (although I don’t have the hot coffee mod, so I’m still a virgin) and went on to ask someone who knew the answer to this tantalising question. Roaming the city streets at this late hour brought me upon the house of a wise old man (actually it was a cardboard box and he was more of a piss-smelling drunk), before whom I immediately prostrated myself and asked the familiar question. He mumbled something about “change”, but since I am not a member of the revolution I did not understand which change he was referring to.

Having fruitlessly tried to get answers from other people, I gave up and thought I’d try self-hypnosis. I stole a great book (How to hypnotise yourself and then write a book about it and become filthy rich) and proceeded to hypnotise myself. I will share with you the revelatory experience that ensued, but before I do that I will continue writing this filler so that this post will appear longer. In my revelation, I saw myself riding a horse in my ranch, unable to think coherently. It was true. In my past life I was George W. Bush. Now, I know Bush is not dead yet, but who cares, it’s not like being a Pharaoh makes any more sense.

Immediately, I thought of ordering a nuclear strike against Switzerland, the land of banks and neutrality, for making that god-awful DiRollo commercial but I reconsidered since I remembered I don’t really believe in reincarnation. I then dismounted my horse, woke myself and ate a chicken sandwitch. It was quite good, actually.

The moral of this story is that all that past lifetime crap is actually a sham. You were nothing in a past lifetime. Hell, you’re nothing in this lifetime! That’s just for people who’re too much of a pussy to admit they’re losers and want to be able to say they were really a world leader, even if in a previous lifetime. I’m tired of this, I think I will go sleep and then rewrite the U.S. constitution.