you know somefink? i just realised somefink, and the somefink i just realised made me realise somefink else, somefink that i already knowed but had forgotted. here are the somefinks in the order of their occurrence in brain cavity:
1. you, the reader, have no way of knowing if i am telling the truff.
2. i am real cute, but several crayons short of a full deck of bricks (or somefink)
you see, i was trying to figure out how many peaches i ate today (was it 7? was it only 5?) and was in the throes of serious mental exertion when i realised (see 1. above) that whether i wrote the correct number on purpose or an incorrect number by mistake or an incorrect number in a mean and deceitful manner, two things remained true: a. you could never know if i was indeed lying or telling the truff and b. you really don't give a sheep. oh, and c. that i know the first three letters of the alphabet. real well, too!
now it don't take no mental giantess to have figured out this little perk of blogging, so here came realisation 2. (see above). all large nasal appendages aside, i am cute. and it is astonishing that someone with my mindnumbingly spectacular intellect is so floody slow sometimes.
now there are some bloggers out there for whom* it is a question of honour to always tell the truff, to maintain uninterrupted honesty, to "keep it real" as it were. me? not so much. after all, i can claim to be honest and all that sheep, but really, who's to know? and hell, why should i be honest with you when i am frequently dishonest (sometimes brutally so) with myself?
*notice how even in the midst of minxish misspellings and grammatical goofiness, i still retain some standards? i could never say "for who" just as i could never say "for you and i" and you know why? because, all joking aside, some things are holy, and the object/subject dichotomy is one such thing.