Before Dateline NBC can send in an undercover crustacean with a hidden camera to try and expose Paul the Octopus’ psychic secrets, his aquarium has announced that he is officially retiring from predicting shit. Paul is crawling off of his stool and leaving the casino while his record is still perfect.
A spokeswoman from the Sea Life aquarium (or “aqworium” as Sandra Lee says) in Germany says that Paul will not predict another sports game, political election or anything else. Don’t ask Paul to confirm if your Magical 8-Ball is right, because he will give you the tentacle. Nostradamus better not try to contact Paul from the dead, because the octopus is simply not interested. The spokeswoman went on to say that Paul will go back to doing what he loves the most: playing with his handlers and entertaining kids.
She also said that the aquarium has received several offers to buy Paul, but he’s not for sale.
Okay, yes was one of those offers came from me, but I only want Paul to live in my bath tub so he can tell me who’s the stupid saboteur on stupid Big Brother. And then he can tell me who’s going to win Top Chef. And Work of Fart. And Design Star. And The Next Food Network Star. And The Bachelorelette. And then Paul can let me know if I’m going to go out from choking on corn dog chips (this will exist in the future) while watching Big Brother 50 or if my brain is simply going to combust from overexposure to reality shit shows.