The Daily Post people are at it again! Today they gave me a Daily Prompt that just said Secret. What? Didn’t we just go through this? I thought I set the record straight on keeping secrets in this post.
But no, they have more secrets they want me to keep. Or maybe they want to know mine? Well, do you want to know a secret? You do? Well crap! I don’t have any. Maybe I can make one up. Will that satisfy your incessant need for secrets?
Ok, it should be a really big one, right? But not so big that you guys go, “Right rudyblues, like we’d ever believe that chuck wagon full of baloney!” I feel like Goldilocks, “And this one is just right.”
See, there’s a reason I don’t have any secrets. There’s nothing about me that anyone wants to know! I am the dullest thud that ever thudded! I tell my secrets, people yawn and look at their watches. “Oh my, look at the time! Gotta run!” Frankly, it’s a little embarrassing.
A secret, a secret, my kingdom for a secret. A juicy, tawdry one, please. Think rudyblues, surely there must be at least one thing that you’ve kept from the world. I mean, jeez, you and Methuselah went to high school together, you can’t tell me that there’s not one thing that you can come up with in all those years?
Holy cow, maybe I should hold some stuff back. Then I could have a secret for the next time the Daily Post people want to know one. Note to self, be more secretive.
Let’s see, what did I do today that I could keep secret? I woke up, I ate breakfast, I did my daily ablutions, I got dressed, I made a lunch, I went to work, I came home, I fed the cat, I put out the garbage. Man, this is some dull stuff! Sea slugs live more interesting lives!
Ok! Here’s a secret I keep from my boss. I read blogs on WordPress when I should be working. Yeah, that’s it, that’s my secret! What a scofflaw I am! I’ll bet my image in your mind’s eye just changed from Elmer Fudd to James Dean! Right? No? Ok.
But, wait, I know the IT department knows everything I do on my work PC. It’s a part of the Big Brother culture we have at work. So, if I post this, the IT trolls will surely read it, and the jack-booted thugs will make a beeline to my 36 square feet of cube farm heaven armed with pink slips! I’m doomed! Unemployment line here I come!