I placed a bet on the Grand National this weekend. My first bet on horses. My prediction was obviously correct and I won a grand sum of £14 for my efforts. That was good, thought I. Why don’t I just do this instead of getting a job?
A foolish idea indeed, I hear you cry! But halt, you are yet to consider my psychic abilities. Not only did I predict the winning horse correctly, but I also made time to make some evidence for the doubters. Regard:
Regard also the following evidence:
- Exhibit 1 – A psychic woman once told my mother that she possessed psychic capabilities. This very real and not at all made up skill is genetic, thus I must also have the gift.
- Exhibit 2 – I once blew out a candle in church using only my eyes. No I did not snub it out using my eyeball. That would burn me horribly and cause injury. I used the power of my mind. I still believe to this day that the candle did not just happen to go out at the exact moment that I attempted to blow out a candle using only my mind. If you think this not a worthwhile use of my time you must consider that I was being forced to attend church at the time and thus harnessing the power of my supernatural brainbox far surpasses the importance of listening to an hours worth of indoctrination leaving the mouth hole of a senile man in a dress.
As a result of this weekend’s victory, and my previous sterling record of psychic achievements I began to think this gambling business might be an easier way of obtaining capital than conventional work.
In fact I felt sure I had discovered my destined career path. Little to no work involved, lots of money, lots of time for buying things and frolicking in fields. Excellent.
I had to reconsider my decision, however, when I realised (to my horror), that earning one’s living by gambling would necessitate the spending of a proportion of one’s time in a bookies surrounded by people who smell of urine and growl. I think I’d rather get a job.