I used a significant portion of my savings to buy a crystal ball down at the local pawn shop. The plan at the time was to gaze upon lottery numbers and nuclear launch codes, and sell both to anonymous buyers. The ball looks suspiciously close to an oversized snowglobe, so I'll only go as far as giving suspect readings to site visitors. Here's what I gleamed of the future:

Seventy children will die in the continental United States due to their own stupidity. Only 6 of these will be reported, all of which will be blond white females.

A ninja war will be written off as gang violence.

The amount of complaining about Bush will be vastly disproportionate to the amount of real action taken against him.

Jesus will return from the grave in order to fight an alien invasion. This will be ignored in favor of American Idol.

A man on an awkward date will make a joke about Michael Jackson that is several years past its prime. His date will laugh while she inwardly plots to kill him for insurance money.

You will tell all of your friends about this page. Even that one guy you hate. That one with the bad tie and shrill laugh.

The theater adaptation of "Mortal Kombat" will go through only one show.

Saul of the Mole Men's heavy handed attempt at anti-humor will continue to fail like a white-blood cell in Uganda.

Thor himself will descend to deliver justice upon the writers, producers, directors, and coffee boys involved in the creation of Meet The Spartans.

Comic fans will continue to not buy The Order, and I will continue to hate other comic fans.

Once I have Super Smash Bros Brawl in my disc tray, you will never see me again.