Dear readers: This #TBT feature originally appeared on Grandma's Briefs February 9, 2010. I’m proud to say that nine years later, I’ve still never written about—at least not at length—the things I swore I never would. Thank you for reading my rerun.

I read a lot of blogs. I didn't used to, but since becoming a blogger, I'm interested in what other folks are blogging about, where they get their ideas, how they express the little—and big—things in life in a way that intrigues readers day after day. My RSS reader feeds me a steady diet of food for thought.

Lately, some of that food has been pretty foreign to me. Not foreign in the sense that I'm reading posts in Chinese or Swahilian (is that the correct word?). Just foreign in the sense that I've read a lot of posts of late on topics that I, myself, cannot imagine writing about.

I admire folks who have the guts to let it all hang out, especially if they can let it all hang out and elicit a chuckle at the same time. I sometimes even enjoy reading the posts of such folks, even if I'm slightly horrified, deeply depressed or uncomfortably embarrassed by and/or for the blogger. But I personally can't write like that. I'm not that kind of a blogger. I'm not that kind of a person.

So just to let you all know—in case you're looking for something a little dirty or depressing deeper, a little more raunchy revealing in the blogs you frequent—there are five things you'll never read about here on Grandma's Briefs. Feel free to unsubscribe or remove me from your favorites or vow to never again visit www.grandmasbriefs.com if this admission reveals to you that I'm just not your kind of gal, your kind of blogger. I understand.

Here, all based on posts I've recently read (and often, in all honesty, even chuckled about and read through to the end), are the Five Things I Will Never Write About.

1. Sex with my husband. (Is it anyone's business? I don't think so.)

2. Play-by-play of a pap smear, mammogram or Brazilian wax. (I'm not humorous enough to make such posts good reads for anyone.)

3. Masturbation. ('Nuff said.)

4. Chronic complaints of my chronic disease/disability. (Does whining, complaining, sounding like a hypochondriac begging for pity focusing on it make it any better? Not for me.)

5. Details on the wacky, weird, effed-up family interactions that take place—on my side of the family tree, on Jim's, or within our immediate nest. (Yeah, sometimes they can be funny, touching, revealing. And sometimes I'll allude to them. But you'll never get details. Sorry. Effed-up or not, they're family, loved ones, folks I don't want to alienate, folks who don't deserve their dirty laundry to be flapping in the wind for all 10 of my readers to see.)

There you have it. I'd love for you to stick around, but if I'm not what you're looking for, I understand your need to move on. And hey, I can even recommend some blogs that offer such posts. They're often quite funny/touching/sad/horrifyingly hilarious…and continue to show up on my RSS reader.

You just won't find that here. I'm not that kind of blogger.