And now... How can you know if what I am typing now is exact truth? A few months ago, when none of you read this except for maybe Jason, I might have felt I could put in whatever I wanted in here without fear of repercussion... but NOW.... oh you all just be glad I restrain myself! Or maybe I don't restrain myself? Maybe I've taken it upon myself to create a new, secret blog where I rant and rail to my hearts content (like I might have used to) about EVERY ILL I feel you all have caused me? Struggling to think of an ill you might have caused? Then I will let your image of my wrath rest in one of my two ways:

1. That one time you're thinking about... that one when I MIGHT have been upset? Oh yeah... I was pissed. And on this secret blog, I've made your name mud! No four-letter words were too unkind for you. You know how I feel about the other team on Fridays? Well, Texas, that's what you are to me (at least in the post(s) you have inspired).

2. That one time you're thinking about... I don't remember it. I don't hold a grudge. But maybe you'd like to see what I've posted about the number ones?

Happy Hunting!

Tip for my friend Joe: when you accidentally trip over your shoelace in the middle of some busy Spanish street, don't talk about how "embarasado" you were. First of all, it's impossible, and people will laugh at you. Second, how many bottles and rattles can a guy like you really use? Honestly?

I finished Slaughter-House Five today. Finally. Yeah, you might have noticed it was my book of the moment a long time ago, and ceased being so a long time ago as well. Well, sometimes my books of the moment aren't really of the present moment, but more of the future, anticipated moment. I guess that's just how we do things here in Michael's House of Pain. Speaking of which...

If you ask for me not to do something (and I take heed), then please, don't turn around and do it yourself. It's kind of rude. But maybe I should post that in the "secret blog". This is about as confrontational as I get these days.