BunkoSquad

You were warned...

Sometimes when people say, "I don't want to talk about it", they really do want to talk about it...they just want to set the stage to be dramatic and stuff. Heaven knows I've been guilty of this myself, a time or two or sixty-three.

But if you believe nothing else I ever say, believe this: I really really really don't want to talk about the last 24 hours of my life. Nothing horrible; no damage to person or property; no unspeakable trauma, I swear. I'm alive and well and made it home just fine. I just really don't want to say anymore.

Now having typed all that, I realize that this may come across as an even larger-scaled version of what I said in the first paragraph. Emphatically not true. So don't bother. If your curiosity's been piqued...un-pique it. If scandalous thoughts are going through your mind (And they really shouldn't be. Let's remember who we're talking about here.)...push them aside. As far as anyone needs be concerned, I spent another day recovering from my head cold.

And if you think a liberal application of booze is all it will take to spill my secrets (I'm looking at you here, Mystery Person J."B".G.), you are certainly welcome to try. But it will be fruitless.

Maybe in 6 months I'll be ready to say more. I can at least dangle that carrot. Remember. Head cold.