The Return of Justin

Well, Africa was a really good time. Looking over the last two posts, it would appear that conceptofirony continued to run smoothly even though I wasn't around. That's a real good feeling, knowing that you can pick up and leave and nothing is disrupted.

Unfortunately, the pleasure of returning home was short lived. The first thing I did when I returned home was to sit down at my baby grandpiano(see picture, above) and spend a few minutes tickling the ivories. That’s when I noticed an unusual piece of mail (My manservant leaves what he considered to be important mail on the piano and I always trust Curtis' judgement in these matters.)

The peculiar mail consisted of a stack of forms all related to the Freedom of Information Act.

According to this bad boy, I have to answer questions. Lots of questions. Probing questions. You can read the disgusting details for yourself, but suffice it to say that I am required by federal law to provide information about myself. They create this massive file, which any of the public can then request. Also, I am to provide some of these answers on my own blog--the last place I ever wanted people to learn about me.

Is this what Jack Bauer risks his life for?

Didn’t I get into the whole blogging scene because I found honesty just too much to bare? Didn't I hope that I could present a tough, but smooth shaven façade?

That is a rhetorical question.

Unfortunately, the Freedom of Information Act requires that I answer it.

Yes. That is why I got on to the whole blogging scene.

And so I apologize to you my dear readers. I know you must blush at seeing me put on the dissecting table so to speak. But know that I do not lose heart. I know that we will both emerge all the stronger for it.