AuthorErvin, Mike

I'm pretty crappy at making political predictions. Three years ago, I predicted with cocksure confidence that there wasn't the slimmest chance in hell that the squatter currently occupying the White House would ever become the squatter currently occupying the White House. Shows how much I know.

But once in a great while, when it comes to political predictions, I'm a regular Nostradamus. Some times there are situations where the outcome is so predictable, even I can see it coming.

Like, for instance, once I was shopping in the men's section of a department store. There were super patriotic T-shirts hanging all around me. They said stuff on the front like "God Bless America" and "Made in the USA." They had pictures of badass eagles, American flags, the Declaration of Independence, and stuff like that.

I immediately wanted to see the labels inside the collars of the shirts because I was 10,000 percent positive that I knew exactly what they would say. But first I made a wager with my imaginary friend. I bet him my condo to a ham sandwich that the T-shirt labels would say exactly what I predicted. And, of course, he took me up on it. Whenever I need a sucker to engage in a foolhardy wager, my imaginary friend is happy to oblige. And when I gloat about winning, he never gets upset. When I lose, he never makes me pay up. He always gives me double or nothing. Isn't that what imaginary friends are for?

When we bet, we seal the deal by hooking our pinkie fingers. So once the bet was officially placed, I looked at the labels and sure enough they said: "Made in Guatemala." Exactly as I predicted! I knew it because making super patriotic T-shirts in Guatemala makes perfect sense, in a perfectly nonsensical way.

Another time I nailed a slamdunk political prediction was when an invitation to sign an online petition landed in my inbox. It came from The petition was to the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights and the demand was that the commission take action to help stop all the aborting of fetuses diagnosed with Down syndrome.

I suspected this petition came my way because I write a lot about disability stuff and some algorithm pegged me as a likely sympathizer. But I was sure that if I went to, it would be disturbingly rightwing. So I woke up my imaginary friend. I shook him hard because he was passed out in his hammock. I showed him the petition link and told him my theory. "Wanna bet?" I said, holding up...

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