Yeah, I went to one in L.A though for a laugh. It's mental there; more Psychics in Hollywood than newsagents. Can't get a ****ing tin of juice but I can get my palm read by twenty different weirdos if I want.
All made up bullshit that women just lap up venom. Is there anyone who knew a Robert? Robert anyone? A Michael? Peter? Thomas?
When I had it done I pretended she was spot-on with everything she said, looking really incredulous and shocked. My mate was pishing himself laughing throughout his one, she told him the reading wouldn't be accurate if he didn't believe. They're ****ing leeches preying on the weak. Like Priests.
