You know who you are. Yes, you. You are the one who called me a few days ago when I needed a call. Yes, that you. And you know who you are. And you over there, you know who you are, too. I hope your wife gets better. I'll send lawyers, guns and money. And you half way in between, yeah, the guy who kinda knows what I was talking about, about people not loving each other. I think you know who you are, too. And everybody who doesn't know me well enough for me to have said "you know who you are" because of something you did, well, you know who you are as much as the next guy. Or girl.
Then there are those who don't know who you are because I'm not making it clear, or you're not a reader of this blog. I'll have a special post or two or three for you sometime soon. Maybe you'll hear about it somehow and you'll know who you are too. But if you don't, I'll be able to get away with writing about it because you won't know it's you, and neither will anybody else. Sometimes it's more fun that way.