Grouphugged

One week from yesterday (November 17), I'll be doing my 100th entry, barring a catastrophe that blows all of my fingers off. But you know what? Even if my fingers were blown off (by, say, an exploding hot pocket), I'd STILL do the 100th entry by typing with my nose. I am dedicated. I'm like a man who keeps climbing Mount Everest after his Sherpa died from eating rotten yak meat. Even if I were to encounter the dreaded Abominable Snowman on my way up the mountain, I wouldn't stop. I'd just poke him in the eyes with my dead Sherpa's frozen fingers and then I'd haul buns up to the top.

All of this is just a prelude to what we're actually going to have for the 100th entry. I don't want to spoil it, but it's going to be big. I highly doubt it will excite most of you the way that it excites me, but I'm going to throw a hint out there anyway: BFS. It's going to be so BFS in here, you'll pray that it will never stop. If I've already told you what I'm going to do, then you can't spoil it for everyone else. If you try to ruin it, you will be thrown in the goulash gulag (can't believe I just wrote that).

Brendan has got me somewhat addicted to grouphug.us, where random psychopaths confess dark secrets to the great big internet. That being said, in the spirit of grouphug, here are a few things I've never told anyone.