Bennett to coach NSW and other signs of the Apocalypse
Can Wayne take the Knights all the way in 2013?
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If you’re the type of credulous, ‘open-minded’, treacle-brained fool that goes in for all this “Mayan Calendar predicts end of the world in 2012” nonsense, then you’ll want to barricade yourself in your bunker and batten down the hatches.
Sitting here alone in my fortified rural compound, Y2K Survival Kit at the ready, tin-foil hat wrapped firmly around my skull and typing by the light of a heavily smoking kerosene lantern (the fumes of which are enough to kill every insect and rodent in the room) I have consulted my personal birth star chart, killed and eviscerated a chicken to read its entrails and phoned PsychicTVOz just to make sure.
The End Times are here.
I can smell it in the air and it smells like kerosene fumes.
There have been a number of disturbing signs in the world of sport that can only be interpreted in the light of that millennia-old John Cusack movie – 2012 (2009).
Wayne Bennett is rumoured to be considering coaching New South Wales in the State of Origin series. This is not as ridiculous as it seems at first. He stood behind Stephen Kearney when Kearney coached New Zealand to World Cup glory in 2008.
Bennett’s advice to the Kiwi coach made a great deal of difference and believe it or not, was gleaned solely from tarot cards. The word on the telepathy wire is that the great coach has just drawn the fabled cockroach card.
If Bennett were to sit in the chair that belongs to Phil Gould (spiritually speaking) this would be a sure sign that the heavens will split asunder at any minute, raining blood and fire down upon us all.
I need to open a window, fast.
The Rabbitohs and the Sharks are both entrenched in the top eight of the NRL competition – AT THE SAME TIME!
The ancients clearly warned us – via child-like drawings of men dancing with chickens and snakes on the walls of their temples – should this ever occur we’d all better start stocking up on tins of baked beans and bottled water and find a safe place to hunker down (their words, not mine).
The Gold Coast Suns have won a game. Don’t run screaming into the forest just yet, there’s more. They won a game AT HOME.
The Mayans sometimes worshipped the Sun and so have had plenty to say about the struggling Gold Coast franchise’s fortunes, warning ominously that any victory at home is a pointer to great calamity, huge catastrophes and poor tipping results.
Head for the hills!
A thick, black cloud of possibly carcinogenic smoke is settling onto the keyboard now and all around. I simply must get the rest of this warning out to the world, if it’s not too late.
Quickly then! New Zealand was briefly ahead of Australia on the Olympic Medal tally! We couldn’t win a single gold medal for an individual swimming event but won three golds for sailing!
Usain Bolt was humble for a few seconds in an interview! The Parramatta Eels are winning games of football – hell, even the Storm have had a couple of wins!
Scariest of all, I personally witnessed a lamb-lying-with-lions moment on the Internet. Impossibly, a civilised and constructive discussion was held online between fans of rival Australian football codes.
In an open, unmoderated forum all participants mulled over what they liked and disliked about each other’s preferred winter sport. They didn’t resort to petty, paranoid, personal pot-shots or ignorant, incendiary, idiotic invective.
A thrill of terror ran through me like a lightning bolt. This simply cannot be true unless the world is indeed about to come to an untimely end.
As I black out from this dense kerosene fog I wish you and your family good luck in the coming tribulations. Don’t worry about me; these little flying pink unicorns will keep me safe.
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