Friday the Thirteenth!
Who’s afraid of Freddy Krueger then? Lights a fag from the stub of the last one and sneers.
Look at yourselves will you. Frightening yourselves shitless about a random date and a fictional monster.
Get a grip!
Friday the Thirteenth is just another day. It is no more unlucky than any other day.
To illustrate: I met my late and unlamented spouse on a Friday. Only it wasn’t the thirteenth. And I couldn’t blame luck. Nope. I wound up married to the louse because of the effects of rough cider not the friggin’ date….
So. Get out from under the bed. Get your legs down the appropriate holes in your trousers (or pants if you are a bloody colonial), and try to act like you have a brain cell.
Stop watching horror films if you don’t have the balls to realise they are fiction.
Don’t be looking for lucky items of clothing, just put your adult panties on and get on with the day.
Do not walk around with your fingers crossed. You will only wind up hurting yourself.
Put the bloody rabbit foot down. It isn’t lucky for f***’s sake. The poor bloody rabbit is dead.
To cut a possibly very long rant a little shorter here is the bottom line.
Superstition is crap. It will never be anything but crap. It is designed to sell crap. And to allow the feeble-minded to blame their inadequacies on a higher power.
Again I say crap.
If I see anybody surreptitiously turning their money in their pocket, or avoiding their reflection I shall be kicking ass…
Piss off. I’ve said all I’m going to say and you are annoying me now.
Happy Friday suckers!
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