There are those among you who will be disappointed by the truth. And by me. It's probably not the first time. It certainly won't be the last. Both the truth and I are frequently disappointing, so you might as well get used to it. Yes, this man listens to Country & Western:
I feel terrible, Billy. I wish it was something else. I wish it was Jam Band (actually I really wish it was European Techno), but it's not. I almost lied and said it was Jam Band just so I wouldn't let you down. I'm a fool, a durned fool. Always have been. Always will be. If my name was Charlie Pride I would change it to Charlie Shame. I'm utterly, hopelessly predictable.
Or am I?
If something is "predictable", wouldn't that would imply that people can, oh, let's say... predict it? Hmm? But let's look at the numbers:
Yeah, it's not looking so good. Is it? On the contrary, Country & Western and Eighties Glam-Metal tied for last place.
How can this be? I'll tell you how. You, in your craving for the novel and bizarre, have overlooked the most reasonable answer and instead chosen the freakish: the jam band, the techno, and, yes, even the polka (that one really was a red herring). And I, anticipitating your utterly predictable desire for the unpredictable, have made the most predictable answer also the correct one, thus being the most unpredictable of all. Hah, hah! It is not I who has been predictable. It is you. And it is not I who has disappointed you, but you who have disappointed me! Shame! Shame!
It's alright, though. I forgive you.
And congratulations, Ms. NOLA. You are the new reigning Queen of Slimboland (although, you might have a tough time getting the tiara back from "John").