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I DO DECLARE AND AFFIRM THAT
I am over 18 years of age. I am of sound mind. I do not have a delicate heart. I have not - as far as I am aware - experienced either a stroke or a nasty head cold in the past ten days. I accept that by entering this site I risk invoking the infinitely terrifying wrath of the many shadowy, sinister and malevolent forces all around me. Some quite possibly looking over my shoulder even as I read this.
Adam, fugitive friend to the wealthy,
famous and powerful. Adam, knower of the Truth, keeper of the Secrets.
Secrets that, God willing, I shall soon be able to share with you all!
I speak with no little authority. I have broken bread with Mansell, sipped Chardonnay with Jordan, kebabbed, so to speak, with Gervais. Why only
last week I picnicked - and gloriously - with Beckham, Beattie, Britney and
Bunby. I have, then, known the Inner Circle. And I say this; I have been privy
to happenings so outrageous, appalling and bizarre, there is no doubt those
involved would rather die than be exposed.
It has been pointed out by certain individuals that the predictions
I have presented hitherto have appeared *after* the actual games
had been played. The slanderous concomitant inference being
that I simply checked the results in some arcane publisher of
‘news’ before presenting them as predictions of events yet to occur
Why, dear friends, such an interpretation would render your scribe at
best a charlatan, at worst frankly insane!
Ah yes - how very convenient!
The simple truth is I have long made it a rule never to open any
package less than twenty-four hours after it has entered my custody,
this quarantine designed, it will be understood, to ensure the lessening
efficacy of any poisons or booby-traps the package may happen to
Originally posted by ParaNana
...this is quite bizarre...don`t u think!?
Utilising only a bewildering construction
of levers, pulleys, old tin cans and odd bits of twine, the lad has arranged
a fantastic contraption that enables the delicate scratchings of my quill
pen – clutched firm in my left hand as I speak – to be transmuted into
the bland and anonymous typography you see before you.
It is know as a ‘Blog’, I am told.