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.