But believe what I say.  One thing I am not capable of doing is telling a fib.  My nose grows a big zit with each untruth I utter or write.  Once it festers, like the fib itself, the pus oozes in all its ugliness for everyone to see, a disgusting testimony to my unworthiness.  Pat Boone would be proud of me.

May this blog be pus free.

Thank you and poot.