Ask an International Guy of Mystery
Your blog has been inactive for about three months so I was wondering if you had died. If or when you do die, may I have your Lazy-Boy recliner? I would move it out of your place myself.
Concerned in Corvallis
I'm not dead. I've been engaged in some top-secret international espionage, which I'm not allowed to tell anybody about. It was in Mexico.
My assignment had to do with tracking the infamous El Chapo, one of the scariest people on earth. In many ways, we each have our own personal El Chapo. For some, a personal El Chapo may be shyness, or hoarding sugar packets, or singing off-key. For many people in Northern Mexico, their personal El Chapo is a drug kingpin who decapitates thousands of innocent people.
It was that last one whom I was sent to locate, and I got a break when Sean Penn and a Mexican starlet were invited to El Chapo's hidden lair. I followed with a hundred pinatas, which I strung above the enclosure as a gift to the great man. The starlet was so sexy she could give cardiac arrest to an armadillo. El Chapo had hopes of wooing her. Fat chance, Gordo.
I'm not allowed to tell you how it turned out, except that we caught our man.
As for the Lazy-Boy, it's already claimed by a friend who often gives me mushrooms he's picked in the local forest.
Hasta la vista, amigo,