Famed French seer, Nostradamus, has been exposed as a sot drunk by his great great great great great niece. The news has understandably upset doomsday buffs, professional paranoids and assorted religious zealots who have been looking forward with inexplicable glee to the end of the world. They may be in for a big disappointment about the end of all time coming any time soon if they're basing their hopes on the writings of Nostradamus.
Mrs. LaBelle Cherie, a pastry and croissant chef who now resides in Los Angeles, California , states unequivocally that her famous relative was drunk out of his skull when writing his so-called "quatrains."
"Oh, absolutely, everyone in the family knew it, way back then. Michel was a tosser, like most of the French. He was just Michel to them, Michel the big drunk. He drank wine, hard stuff, anything he could get his hands on, but his favorite was absinthe, that green stuff that was banned for rotting your brain."
Judging from the evidence, there's a strong case to be made for Mrs. Cherie's accusations. One only needs to look at the man's writings.
"When the stars whirl backward and the dog days are over
Shall the dust of night come down on all heads
Rain, hot, dirty, bloody, gone. It is in the sign of Pisces
All the lands of the former glory, over there, look! by that door, do you see snakes as I do? Snakes!"
"My mom said he started drinking when he was 12 and didn't let up until the end. If he hadn't gotten into this quatrain writing business, he couldn't have found a job in the village. He was unemployable, nobody would have hired him and he knew it. Just too undependable. That's why he spent all those hours holed up in his "special room" staring into a bowl of water. He'd eventually pass out and his wife, Monica, would pull his boots off and roll him into bed. I've read every word of his silly junk after all, he is my relative and a very famous one at that. But I always laugh cuz I know he was totally bombed off his nut when he was scribbling this nonsense."
The end of the world did indeed finally come -- for Nostradamus. He probably died from brain degeneration and cirrhosis, although we'll never know because an autopsy was not performed. The family quietly buried him with little fanfare.
"I bet his liver looked like swiss cheese! Four Horsemen and blood red hail, yeah, right! That's just the booze talkin! LOL!"