It's all so clear to me now.

Ladies and Gentlemen…do not be jealous. For I received a personal email from none other than…wait for it… 

"The Extraordinary Chris".

I pause so you can catch your breath from gasping.

What?…you don't know who he is? How is it possible that you don't know this great man, this Leonardo da Vinci of the Supernatural Realm, this "Cadillac of Men" to quote Futurama…How?

Well I never heard of him either… but I have now. Here is the highly personalized, unique and directed only to my mailbox email he sent me…

Let's review this "Exclusive Missive from the Great Beyond"…

Beginning with the video link…hair and jacket provided by the year 1979. Very classy.

Next, his last name is Voyance…get it? Chris Voyance, who practices Clairvoyance?

He mentions he can "Improve my situation" but why doesn't he just say what it is if he knows it?

And why do I need to know the exact moment he had his revelation, is it confirmation that something really happened or is there some significance to the time of 10:47pm…perhaps a commercial break in whatever TV show he was watching?

Then of course he needs to confirm "some details needed"…and now we get the heart of the matter in which The Extraordinary Chris reaches gently into my wallet and robs me of most of my Ordinary cash.

The bottom of the email has real-life testimonials, complete with photos ripped off from a stock photo website. As usual, no one offers any actual facts or comments that are verifiable, that way no one can question the almost-certainly Less Than Ordinary Chris.

A real testimonial would read like this:

Jesus on Two Sticks, Chris is the Real Deal! I answered his email on a Tuesday night at 5:53pm (during a re-run of Cupcake Wars) and damned if he didn't already know that I had bad gas (from Taco Rico on Dixie Highway) as well as fallen arches. Two days later on my way to the unemployment office, I tripped into the street and found $5 which I used to buy a scratch-off ticket at the Winn Dixie (I lost). Thanks Chris, you da man!

Anyway, I decided to go thru with the reading so I clicked on the button and it linked to this website. I love that comment below the picture of the TV…

"Chris remains humble and accessible even though he had been on TELEVISION many times before. He is a man that you can trust!"

If being on television qualified people as honest and professional then I would be letting Donald Trump do my taxes, get my wine selections from watching The Jersey Shore and let the Kardashians handle my daughter's education.

Anyhoo, after I gave my info it took me to a confirmation page…

I love the fact that Chris asks for my phone number so he can reach me "in case he has an instant vision about my future".

Needless to say, Chris did not call me and I have been forced to figure out my life on my own, make my own decisions and somehow, just barely get on with acting like a rational adult.

Chris…why hast thou forsaken me!

As an extra…here is an excerpt from the Terms and Conditions document, created no doubt by Chris' Extraordinary Legal Team:

Said fortune telling, like the information provided directly by “THE WEBSITE”, shall not be considered, medical, legal, real estate, psychological, emotional or economic/financial advice or advice of any other sort. Furthermore, it shall not be used for making decisions. It should not replace the advice of other professionals. It is of a recreational, cultural and playful nature, in an esoteric and/or spiritual setting, providing a different perspective about the aspects that are the subject of the consultation and information. It is performed based on variables arising from the personal data of the user.

Catnip es Muy Malo

Fresh? I think not...

Subway is six kinds of nasty…probably much more than that but for the sake of this rant, lets just say it's six. Here is a real authentic picture posted to the great Interwebs, I have added some helpful comments to help you understand it...

Anyway, my pattern is the same…I go for months and months without eating from that wretched hive of villainy and then one day, my food compass bends a little too far to one side* and I forget why I stopped eating there and then I go in again.

Subway is just horrible... cold cuts and tuna salad in open containers pawed at by semi-educated people who think that hairnets are more of an optional fashion statement than a way to keep strands of unwashed hair out of my bacon and avocado sub.

And on a somewhat related note, I hate asking for the foot-long...part of me is self conscious and jealous as I will never hear those words from a woman but also because I snicker whenever I say it and a 46 year old man should not laugh at unsubtle penis jokes.

Anyhoo..no matter what sandwich I get from there, I know what is in store for me, within a few minutes of eating it, my stomach starts to rebel against me…there is all manner of violent and scary sounds emanating from my gut. It's like the overture for a Symphony of Gastric Destruction and I the conductor have my baton hand tied behind my back and my sheet music is all written in Chinese.

Try to figure that one out…I dare ya.

So as we can see here in this handy diagram swiped from Wikipedia ("motto: Everything posted here is true until it's "updated" by a 14 year old troll in his Mom's basement"). 

Here is the process for me from sandwich to shit…

I guess the best way to sum this all up is this…Subway is the only food that one should eat while actively sitting on the toilet.

Amen.

* This is science, kids! Ask your parents…the Food Compass or FC as I like to call it is responsible for why you wait for everyone to go to bed at night so you can eat an entire bag of Double Stuffed Oreos while standing over the sink. It's also the reason why normal people don't eat Facon or it's wretched retard sibling Tofurkey. A perfectly functioning FC is what makes you crave grease and salt which makes you happy but kills you at 58 years old whereas a damaged FC is why we have vegans in the world today.

I'm…so….scared….

Please shoot me...

For the longest time I was absolutely 100% convinced that the weirdest person in fashion design must be Karl Lagerfeld…

I mean just look at this obvious cry for help:

Pictured above…Batshit Crazy.

And then while registering some of the staff for a textiles convention in Germany called Heimtex, I literally stumbled upon this…

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you…

Harald Glööckler

Pictured above…Batshittier Craziest.

At first I was positive that I was seeing images from the movie Zoolander or perhaps some horrible sequel to that stupid film, but some quick research convinced me that this dude is real…Here's a few more…enjoy!

You're welcome.

I am…too beautiful.

Sometimes history shouldn't repeat itself...

God, I hope this is a story from The Onion…

So, you may have heard…JNCO, the company that in the mid-nineties started the trend of "jeans so large that you have to sit down to put them on", has started production again.

I wasn't sure who the target demographic was at first but I only had to think about it for a few minutes before these came to me…

JNCO Jeans are great if:

Your hands are full and you need to carry two 2-liters of Mello Yello.

You've every wondered how to sneak your 5 year old brother into the movies.

You were looking for a quick way to repel anyone who was interested in you sexually.

You are part of a fraternity initiation in which you must carry around 6,000 marbles without using your hands.

You have a paralyzing fear of being on a sinking ship and know how to convert the jeans into a sail large enough to push an aircraft carrier across the ocean.

You have no worries about being labelled a "hipster doofus".