A Sad Tuna

One year. A full 365 days. Plus a bit of change. And yet again, I have to blame it on the tuna.

If there had been no tuna, there would have been no interesting first post. I would have ended up having to blame everything on the cute bunny rabbits, and that's much less enthralling than blaming it all on the tuna. Without that first post, there would have been no second, no third. My time would have been spent doing things like cleaning my apartment or figuring out how to prevent hang-nails. Of course, I can do the latter, but it requires removing all fingernails at birth.

A year, and still the tuna are to blame. But perhaps they have had enough. Perhaps they're getting a bad name, and it's because of all the blame I'm piling on.

I can't blame /everything/ on the tuna, either, I suppose. Well, I could, but if I were to expose their intricate network of contacts and agents I would quickly have to blame my 'removal' on the tuna, before I could blame no more. So I won't. So to save myself all of that, I'll declare an end to the year of blaming-it-on-the-tuna. Now it's all the mongoose's fault.

Why, the mongoose? Well, for that, you'll have to ask the tuna.