Today. Friday the 13th. The day you will almost certainly die.
Or seriously injure yourself. Or lose or break a prized and/or irreplaceable possession.
Or forget a very important appointment.
Or stub your toe or get one of those nasty little paper-cuts, blighters.
But, almost certainly, something BAD will happen to you today. Or, to someone you know. Or to someone they know. Or to their pets. Or their friend’s pets.
We haven’t bothered writing a full article here, because you’re probably already dead. Or in a coma. Or walking under a ladder and stubbing your toe. So we didn’t really see the point.
Oh, wait. You’re still here? You’re not dead? And nothing bad has happened? Oh, well fuck me, I guess it’s all just superstitious bollocks, then.