There comes a point in every man’s life when…
No, that’s crap. Lemme start again.
Four score and seven years ago…
That doesn’t even fit within the context. Jeez. I’ll give it one more try.
I want my baby back baby back baby back, Chili’s babyback ribs! Barbecue sauce.
Oh, that’s it. I give up. There’s no good way to start the post where I tell you that I’m giving up my secret identity, and am throwing myself, ala a baby with the bathwater, out into the open world of the internet.
I’m going to pull back my Lone Ranger mask (which I actually wear while blogging) and show my face to the entire world wide web thingy.
But… it won’t be today. I need enough time to get some good pictures of me together, and doublecheck to scrub any previous posts that might get me Dooced. After that, I’ll be the equivalent of the guy who runs onto the soccer field during a match and takes all his clothes off and streaks across the field. So, I’ll try to have it up by this Friday. No promises though.
Now, where the hell did I put that soccer streaking picture?
