I Get Questions,
Questions

I don't really. I feel like I'm in the Internet version of the show Lost. Except there's no around at all. There's not even a volleyball to divert me, which is what at least Tom Hanks had in the movie Castaway. Oh well, talking to myself works. Since no one has yet to send me questions, I thought I'd make up a few with some answers. I'm going to channel my six-year-old niece Vanessa, who'd make a good reporter for the New York Times or the Wahington Post or the Kiddie News.
Q. Why do write so much about hats now?
A. Um, I honestly don't know. They're easy, and I can think of stuff off the top of my head, pun intended. Besides, I wanted to do something different. There are lot of blogs out there about chopping down bitter apple trees, screen writing, even roasting chestnuts on a closed fire, so I figured it'd be hilarious to write about the one piece of apparel that so many of us take for granted: hats. Think about it, if you didn't wear a hat, you'd be cold. Or you might be hot. Although if you didn't wear one in the summer, you'd definitely have no need for a UV-free tanning session at Palm Beach Tan. Mother Nature would take care of that for you for free.
Q. Why don't you have a picture of yourself on your blog?
A. I like to be mysterious. Life is more hilarious when people don't know too much about you. See how everyone and their half-brother seem to have every intimate detail of Dominque Moceanu's life memorized? It's scandalous. Ask the random person on the street what Dominque's Social Security number and I'm sure they'll have it in their Blackberry. Me? I just like to hide under a hand-made chapeau and have the paparazzi chase after me wondering who I am. It's fodder for fabulous dinner-time conversation in any event. Beats talking about how the market today was up or down or sideways!
Q. I got to go to the bathroom. Can I ask you more questions later?
A. Most certainly. I can't promise you I'll still be here when you return. I've got to save the world from hatlessness. It's a chronic condition, very serious. Something's got to be done besides passing out Red Sox or Cubs caps at baseball games. I think we need a Superhero of sorts to jump in when the situation warrants it. Oh, you really got to go. Hurry along. I'll chat with you later.
(By the way, for those of who care, the hat above is a new addition to Vintage Martini.)