I recycle. I…
Okay that’s about it.
Listen, too much has happened for me to give you a good briefing. I’m coming back to blogging because I missed it. Also because when people ask me “What did you do over the weekend?” I don’t remember shit, and that scares me. Having a written account of my high jinks helps to mitigate the fear that I won’t have a credible alibi when the police come.
The truth is that I have grown up a little bit. I like my privacy and I respect my spouse enough to respect his. Like, would he want me telling you that I have a lone pubic hair near my belly button that is named Fernando? I honestly don’t know. But I’m going to ask him, and if he doesn’t want you to know, then I’m going to come back and delete that shit.
Come to think of it, maybe I just shouldn’t tell you about things like Fernando.
What if Patrick gets kidnapped? What if he’s kidnapped by hostile scientists who need beautiful human subjects to clone? What if I broke into the lab and was faced with two or more Patricks? Only the real Patrick would know about Fernando! Real-Patrick could use Fernando like a safe word! Because you and I both know I’m going to have to shoot Fake-Patrick in the face. Because I mean, come on.
Wait a second, that doesn’t make any sense. Think, Hana. Think!
Fake-Patrick would also have Real-Patrick’s memories, right? I mean, I don’t even know if that kind of consciousness-cloning technology is available, but just in case it isn’t, I should probably keep secrets like querido Fernando under lock and key. That would be the smart thing to do.
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Hey guys! Want to hear something funny? Ha-ha. There’s no Fernando! Absolutely no Fernando! I just made him up! Totally just made him up. Ha-ha. Tricked you! Ha-ha.
lol