There comes a time in every blogger's virtual life when he or she outgrows his or her britches and must find a bigger pair of pants, or be reduced to sauntering around in what are usually shameful undergarments.
Today is that day for me. My undergarments are holey and I can't bear the shame.
I have been known by many names, here at Blogger: francobeans, f.B, the great mouse detective, bastard... But after today, this face
... will no longer grace these html pages.*
Didn't we almost have it all, Blogger? If you hadn't gone all Bobby Brown on me --
This is not the place for that. I will remember you, for better or worse.
And so, without further ado, I say goodbye.
The most important details of that trip?
1. He had a half-smoke.
2. He knew to carry cash (Ben's doesn't take cards).
3. When he got back to the privacy of his temp-home bathroom, he used two-ply, ultra soft Charmin.
Why is this huge for me?
Because I've stood in that spot, held a bag of wonderfully greasy food, and paid in cash.
Now, I've never received an ovation. But it's only because no one knows who the balls I am. This is because despite what happened last Friday, in public I wear the mask of the greatest mouse detective who ever lived --
-- and so people tend to scream and shoo at me with brooms.
But what you may not have known is that in my very own sketchy, local Giant, Obama also endorses Jones Pure Cane Soda:
Edit: It's official. I'm moving to WordPress. I have no idea why a Google-uploaded video won't embed on a Google-backed blog. So it's over Blogger. We are now in the "you want the house, I just want to be free, just send me the divorce papers, I've started singing Gloria Gaynor songs" phase. And so if the first video below doesn't load, search Google video for "f.B lost his pants" or go here. Sorry about that.
So here goes...
As a reclusive blogger, I was so unbelievably nervous doing this that I decided I should spruce up the ol' mouth and pop in a breath mint. Not only is that a useless idea -- because you're an entire interweb away from me -- but it's also a horrible idea to eat a mint while talking into a camera. Horrible. The mint was lip-smackingly delicious. And therein lies the rub: a video interspersed with me trying not to drool breath mint juice and saliva onto myself.
I couldn't find that allergy commercial. But you couldn't possibly want anymore video content in this post anyway, right?