A Result of Being Psychic and of You Having No Faith

I cannot read your mind. I cannot move things with my mind and I do not have x-ray vision. I’m not really sure that x-ray vision is a psychic power, but I do not have it. But y’all, I think I am a little bit psychic. Just a smidge…a teeny tiny bit.

Here are the things I can do:

Make a movie appear on tv.

“Give me an example,” you say?

Fine, doubty-pants.

Why do you think Doc Hollywood appeared this year again out of nowhere? I brought it back. One day, out of the blue, I was thinking about Doc Hollywood and then the next day, and almost every subsequent day? There it is. Michael J. Fox and the only actress short enough to appear with him in a full body shot Southing it up in the little town with the pig and the cranky old doctor and I TOTALLY MADE THAT HAPPEN!

Also, I recently brought back While You Were Sleeping.

“That shit is always on, fool,” you say?

Well, watch your mouth AND it is not always on. It is usually on during the Christmas season and it is on HBO. It is not on in March, on TBS, is it? No. I did that. Me and my psychic friend, Myself.

Make songs play on the radio.

Songs I think about always come on the moment I think of them. Always. Random songs that should not even be played on the kind of station I am listening to, people!

You might say, “Everyone fucking thinks they can do that. It’s a result of radio stations playing the same songs in the same basic order so often that your brain becomes used to the order and may occasionally correctly predict the next song played.”

To which I would respond: You are really starting to bother me. Please shush or I will shush you and you will cry. OK? Perfect.

Examples of songs I have made play:

Peter Gabriel, “In Your Eyes” Yes it is on a lot, but why does it always come on when I am sad and need it to?

Madonna, “La Isla Bonita” Why was I thinking of that song? I don’t know. But I think a better question is, why did it come on three seconds later?

You again: “Um, psycho, you probably heard the dj say it was coming up, maybe?”

This just proves how little you know about me. I do not listen to people talk on the radio. That is not what it is for. If it is a talk show, that’s one thing, but I have no time for the talking of the non-talk show crowd and if you had ever paid even the slightest bit of attention to me while we were in the car together, you would have picked that up. Now, feel free to SHUT IT!

Predicting who will hook up in a given situation.

This absolutely should not be confused with any sort of matchmaking ability on my part. I can’t do it. I don’t think I’ve ever done it voluntarily and I never ever will. It’s just a bad idea. It immediately puts things on the date/relationship level and that is too much pressure and it never works out and nobody should ever do it.

You, not having learned the shushing lesson: “Didn’t your parents meet on a blind date?”

Me: Did I not tell you to shut it? It still needs to be shut whether you have a point or not.

Anyway, as I was saying before you so rudely interrupted AGAIN, I can look around any bar and predict who is and who isn’t going to either smooch or go home together. And I can more accurately predict who will be very very sorry the next day that they did.

Example? Well, the night that my friends and I ended up eating cheese sandwiches on the porch of a man named Randolph, let’s actually call him a boy, we had earlier met a bachelor party group and I predicted two things just on first sight that turned out true.

1. The lone girl in the group was the bachelor’s “best friend” who was secretly in love with him and was out to sabotage the whole wedding thing.

2. The bachelor was not so much ready to get married.

How did these two predictions prove true? Well, bachelor boy and random blondie blonde were making out at the bar within an hour of arrival and best friend? Doing nothing to stop it. I wonder why. No, I don’t. I know why…and so do you.

You: “Well that’s…just because…hey, that hurts!”

Did I not warn you about the shushing and the crying? I think I did.

Make crocuses pop through the snow.

I’m not sure how I did it. I thought about them. I pictured them. I walked a block. I saw them. I don’t know how, but it made me a little uncomfortable because really it was not warm enough for that to happen.

You: “Crocuses are very common in your neighborhood and…”

Me: This not learning of the shut and shush lesson is very disappointing. No cookies for you…and they’re good cookies.

I have also predicted:

Ben Affleck and Jennifer Garner way back when they were on Dinner for Five together and she was quite the smitten kitten…he was just starting the j.lo nonsense, but I predicted this eventual couple, and I was right. Ha!

Dick Clark’s long stroke recovery. Ask my sisters, they’ll tell you. I was on that story from day one. I knew it was worse than they said. You canNOT FOOL ME!!!

Aaron Carter’s little secret. We’ve covered that though.

But what I have done recently, which I am most proud of, is use my psychic powers to bring about the end of one of society’s greatest ills. I don’t know if you’ve seen it. I don’t know if it was on in your market. But nonetheless, I needed it to be removed, and so I have removed it.

I Cancelled “Good Day Live”

Yes, I did! It was me! I did it! You all didn’t do it. You did not hate it like I hated it. You did not sit at the table in the cold cold Georgetown University food court where it was projected on the entire fucking wall for your entire lunch hour and wish that all television would end just so you would never ever have to sit through this horrific horrendousness ever again! You did not! It was me.

You: “Um, I don’t think I said it was me.”

Me: Seriously, the shutting of the it and the shushing of the you needs to begin immediately if not sooner.

As I was saying, I strongly strongly believe that I am responsible for the end of this show. From the moment I saw this monstrosity of daytime television, I have wished for its departure from this world.

Every time I listened to the useless co-hosts interrupt each other every fucking second and make every non-funny joke available to them, I wished it away. (And I mean the old co-hosts and the new ones. All of them were shitty in the exact same Star Jones celebrity boot-licking way. And I think they may have tried to make fun of celebrities on occasion, but that shit doesn’t work when it is so obvious that should you meet any of them you would, if you could, sit on their lap, lick their ear, and ask them to rub your belly.)

Every time I listened to that fucking sanctimonious faux-Regis old man host claim after every story about reality television or celebrities to be so above what he was doing every fucking day without fail, I wished it away. “Does America really care about this?” Well, Steve Edwards, apparently they should have and then maybe your ass wouldn’t be out of a job right now, you think? As my dad would say to any Yankees hitter up against any Red Sox pitcher...SIT DOWN.

Obviously, low ratings may have played some role in the end of this monstrosity, but explain this: on Friday, I was thinking how much I hated that fucking show and wished it would be cancelled and I of course turned it on because I need to remind myself periodically of why I don’t watch it so I won’t be sucked into watching it when somebody I’m vaguely interested in seeing makes the mistake of showing up on that show. And what do I hear? It’s cancelled. At the moment I wish it is cancelled….Poof! It’s gone. Or it will be at the end of this week. You’re welcome.

You: “Huh, well the timing of that is sort of strange. I mean you think about it being cancelled, you turn it on at the exact moment that it announces it’s being cancelled…that might be something.”

Of course it’s something and I don’t need any help from you so just shuffle off there, buddy.

Ladies of “The View” I’m coming for you next. Specifically, Meredith, Star, and Barbra, though not necessarily in that order. Starting tomorrow, I’m wishing you away. Good luck.