fortune-cookieI love fortune cookies.  The simplicity of the crunchy sweetness surrendering the paper prize inside?  Love it!

It’s that little slip of paper that I take issue with.  It’s a fortune cookie, so one would expect to be provided with a fortune.  No such luck tonight.  After finishing off my plate of Pei Wei goodness, I cracked open the cookie to read my message.

What would my fortune be…?

Perhaps an allusion to future riches?  A prediction of opportunities at work?  Maybe a warning of danger?

Nope.  I got a proverb!  An American one at that!

“A stitch in time saves nine.”

I hate that.  I want a fortune, dammit!

I’ve often thought that it would be cool to have the job of writing the fortunes for these cookies.  Of course, I want to make mine a bit dark.  My cookies would warn of ominous and dark futures.  For instance:

  • The dog will poop on the floor tomorrow after you leave for work.  Your wife will see it before she leaves, but will pretend she didn’t so that you can clean it up when you get home.
  • The man who will be hiding in your closet tonight with the very sharp knife enjoys the mambo hits of the 50s.
  • He’s sleeping around.  With your best friend.  And he’s giving her your jewelry.
  • Congratulations, it’s going to be a girl!  Not yours, mind you, but it’ll be a girl.
  • There are many ways to die, but few more undignified than auto-erotic asphyxiation.  Just sayin’ (with apologies to Clyde Bruckman).
  • You will receive a Cease & Desist letter from the attorneys at Paramount about those GI Joe articles the site ran earlier.
  • For the love of God, do not get on the plane today (this one’s for the airport Chinese restaurant).

Wouldn’t you rather get a fortune than a proverb?