Hello, I’m the amazing Chakademus and I’d like to take a few moments of your time, if I may, to tell you my incredible story. So, put yourself at ease, breathe deeply, adopt the recovery position, and prepare to be astounded at the mystical gift that the gusts of fate have seen fit to bestow upon me.
For many years I was just Mr. Average Joe, just like you. No prospects, no hope and a job at the toga factory that was going nowhere. Sometimes I can’t help but feel it was cruel of my parents to christen me “Average” when my surname was Joe, but feeling sorry for myself was going to get me nowhere. I decided the only thing for it was to embark on a spiritual journey to find myself, so I quit my job, quit my wife and set off for Tibet.
Whilst I was there, something amazing happened to me. I was hit in the face with a giant haddock. I won’t go into the details of how that happened (except to say that if you’re ever in Lhasa I can give you the name of a seafood restaurant you would do well to avoid). However, when I finally regained consciousness I found something amazing had happened to me. I found I had the ability to tell the past.
I’ll say that again in case you thought you’d misunderstood. I could describe in detail random events that had already happened.
Let me explain how it works. After the fishy collision, I found myself with an unspeakable urge to write poems. Here’s an example:
East of Ipswich the hotelier stalks,
Waiting for destiny’s embrace,
How will history view his plans?
Will he disappear without a trace?
What marvellously enigmatic prose, you’re probably saying. Well, you’d be right! But I urge you to look again. After all, “hotelier” is almost an anagram of Hitler! And, isn’t Germany East of Ipswich? It turns out that this poem accurately describes Hitler’s rise to power in the 1930s. Pretty spooky, eh?
I know there’ll be some Cynical Cyrils amongst you saying “That’s just a coincidence”, or “Stop wasting my time” or even “When I’m going to get my Strimmer back?” To which my response is, all in good time Barry, all in good time. I just need to finish the privet on the back lawn first. But for the few of you that aren’t convinced, how about this:
Slimy mangroves on the ning-nang-no,
Crabalocker fishwives, hey-ho let’s go,
A simple couplet that appears to describe the ENTIRE HISTORY OF POST-WAR POPULAR MUSIC! I know, it freaked me out too. Still not convinced? How about this:
He lands in the sand where eights are repeated,
New empires rise and old ones defeated
You don’t need me to tell you that this clearly describes American athlete Bob Beamon’s record breaking 8.80m long jump at the 1968 Mexico Olympics!
I’m sure by now I’ve given you enough evidence to convince you of my amazing powers. Here’s how I can help YOU. Now I’ve been blessed with such amazing powers, I have a duty to share them with you. If you send me some information about things that have happened in your life and a cheque for £250, I’ll write you a personal “life poem” and interpret it for you to give you information about some of the things that have happened in your life. Send me £300 and I’ll you’ll send you some towels as well (or whatever else I can find in the shed). What are you waiting for?? You’re just days away from finding out what life has had in store for you!
Since this article was published the amazing Chakademus has been helping police with their enquiries.
For many years I was just Mr. Average Joe, just like you. No prospects, no hope and a job at the toga factory that was going nowhere. Sometimes I can’t help but feel it was cruel of my parents to christen me “Average” when my surname was Joe, but feeling sorry for myself was going to get me nowhere. I decided the only thing for it was to embark on a spiritual journey to find myself, so I quit my job, quit my wife and set off for Tibet.
Whilst I was there, something amazing happened to me. I was hit in the face with a giant haddock. I won’t go into the details of how that happened (except to say that if you’re ever in Lhasa I can give you the name of a seafood restaurant you would do well to avoid). However, when I finally regained consciousness I found something amazing had happened to me. I found I had the ability to tell the past.
I’ll say that again in case you thought you’d misunderstood. I could describe in detail random events that had already happened.
Let me explain how it works. After the fishy collision, I found myself with an unspeakable urge to write poems. Here’s an example:
East of Ipswich the hotelier stalks,
Waiting for destiny’s embrace,
How will history view his plans?
Will he disappear without a trace?
What marvellously enigmatic prose, you’re probably saying. Well, you’d be right! But I urge you to look again. After all, “hotelier” is almost an anagram of Hitler! And, isn’t Germany East of Ipswich? It turns out that this poem accurately describes Hitler’s rise to power in the 1930s. Pretty spooky, eh?
I know there’ll be some Cynical Cyrils amongst you saying “That’s just a coincidence”, or “Stop wasting my time” or even “When I’m going to get my Strimmer back?” To which my response is, all in good time Barry, all in good time. I just need to finish the privet on the back lawn first. But for the few of you that aren’t convinced, how about this:
Slimy mangroves on the ning-nang-no,
Crabalocker fishwives, hey-ho let’s go,
A simple couplet that appears to describe the ENTIRE HISTORY OF POST-WAR POPULAR MUSIC! I know, it freaked me out too. Still not convinced? How about this:
He lands in the sand where eights are repeated,
New empires rise and old ones defeated
You don’t need me to tell you that this clearly describes American athlete Bob Beamon’s record breaking 8.80m long jump at the 1968 Mexico Olympics!
I’m sure by now I’ve given you enough evidence to convince you of my amazing powers. Here’s how I can help YOU. Now I’ve been blessed with such amazing powers, I have a duty to share them with you. If you send me some information about things that have happened in your life and a cheque for £250, I’ll write you a personal “life poem” and interpret it for you to give you information about some of the things that have happened in your life. Send me £300 and I’ll you’ll send you some towels as well (or whatever else I can find in the shed). What are you waiting for?? You’re just days away from finding out what life has had in store for you!
Since this article was published the amazing Chakademus has been helping police with their enquiries.
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