A baby was born to a couple. When he was one, he could
talk like an adult. When he was two, he could read
anything. When he was three, he could do advanced
calculus. When he was four, he could predict the

One day, he made three predictions: "One year from
today, I will die. Two years from today, my mother will
die. Three years from today, my father will die."

Sure enough, a year later the young boy died.

The father, getting the picture in a big way, loaded up
his wife with a million dollars in life insurance.
A year later she died.

The father collected the million dollar insurance
benefit, and, figuring he only had a year before his own
death, went on a 364-day binge.  Fast cars.  Faster women.
Exotic vacations.  Flings with supermodels.

His timing was perfect, for on the 364th day, he blew the last penny
on a Blue Sapphire martini and an exotic dancer with a taste for
overpriced champagne and sexy lingerie.

At midnight, he toasted himself, "What a way to go," and
slipped off into what he assumed would be his big sleep.

To his amazement, he woke up the next morning.  He had
cheated death!  He was invincible!

Then the exotic dancer with whom he'd spend the night
broke the news.  "Honey, better come quick, the pool boy's dead."

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