We have a ghost that lives in our basement. He is a baseball lover and occasionally the tinny transistor blaring decades old Twins games wakes me at 2 AM. I wonder how he gets reception. Maybe spirits time travel.
Tonight is our Third Annual Office Death Pool Draft Party. Among our Death Pool participants there is agreement about the three main categories useful when making picks: super old, pre-existing fatal disease, and rock star lifestyle (drugs, alcohol, anorexia, etc.). We also have a bonus "preggers" pick, in which we predict which celebrity will get pregnant or adopt during the year. I've had Jen all three years.
Last year I won with three picks. Perhaps I mysteriously have a finger on the dying pulse of Hollywood. Or maybe my little basement friend whispers at night into my ear the names of those soon to join him.