Wayne Nostradamus is 32 and lives in his parents’ basement in New Jersey. He spends most of his time playing video games and consuming mass quantities of Red Bull. And yes, Wayne is distantly related to the much more famous Nostradamus, the 1555 publisher of “Les Prophéties.”
Wayne has just published (via Reddit, of course) the first seven quatrains of his new book titled, “Wayne’s Prophéties.”
Here’s a dose of ridiculous prophecy, straight from the caffeinated mind of Wayne Nostradamus, Oracle of Mom’s Basement:
From Wayne’s Prophéties, Book I: The Slouch Awakens
June 2025
The joystick breaks in the heat of the game,The streamer weeps, but no one knows his name.
A cheese puff falls upon the sacred floor—
An omen of snack-fueled online war.
July 2025
When fireworks burst in suburban skies,
A cousin shall clog the pool with curly fries.
The moon shall blush from shame or BBQ—
No one is sure, but the brisket is through.
August 2025
The sun shall scorch the land like pizza rolls,
Left in the oven past their cooking goals.
Sweat shall flow like Mountain Dew’s green tide,
As air conditioners tragically collide.
September 2025
A great alliance forged on Discord’s thread,
Shall rise and fall ’fore breakfast time is fed.
The microwave doth beep without a cause—
Truly, a sign to never skip the pause.
October 2025
The pumpkin spice returns with deadly force,
Corrupting lattes from their sacred course.
A squirrel shall wear a tiny witch’s hat—
This means… something. Wayne’s unsure of that.
November 2025
Two turkeys fight beneath the crescent moon,
While gravy flows like fate’s own cryptic tune.
A pie, unguarded, shall be sadly lost—
Beware the one who underestimates the cost.
December 2025
The bells shall ring, though no one changed the time,
And cookies vanish—not a trace, not a crime.
An elf is seen in baggy sweatpants worn—
Thus ends the year Wayne both blessed and scorned
The Diederich Journal 