The start

I was talking to my sister this morning about how I thought it would be kinda fun to start a blog and how I also didn't know what I'd even say.  Now that I think of it, I'm not even too sure why I thought it would be fun.  Maybe I was reading other blogs or maybe I was just bored and wanted someone to talk to.  I couldn't have wanted someone to have a conversation with since blogs aren't really the best way to have a good two-way conversation.   If I wanted to do that, I guess I'd just get on chatroulette.com and jabber away at some random stranger who, in all likelihood, would be masterbating under their desk.  Have you ever been there? I only tried it two times....both times resulted in too many scenes of big guys in their tighty-whities have a good rub session.  Still, it did pop up with a few couples or random people.  I never talked to any of them, though.  I think I was actually more comfortable with Mr Rubby since I knew there was no pressure there.  I didn't feel obliged to have a great conversation with him, but with regular people?  Too much pressure! What if I started talking and they randomly booted me for someone more exciting?  I might have been crushed emotionally and instead of sitting around wishing I had someone to talk to, I'd be sitting there wishing people thought I was cool.  This way, it's all one sided and I can still imagine myself as really cool!

Don't get me wrong.  I'm no James Dean.  Nobody is going to see me around and say "Damn! That's the guy I want to be!"  I'm more the guy you see wandering around and you say to yourself "Damn! Is that guy lost or homeless or is there something wrong with him?  Why is he staring like that?  Move on, honey...don't attract his attention."  I'm still cool, though.  I might look like a wandering homeless guy, but it's only because I haven't bought a new pair of jeans in nearly 10 years so my clothes are a bit ratty looking.  My shopping cart I live out of has spinning rims though!  I put some beans in a Folgers can, too.  I call it my "sport muffler" so you can really tell when I'm picking up speed rolling down the Wal-Mart parking lot.  Also, if you choose to hand me some money, I prefer if you wave it at me and offer to "sponsor" me.  I have my pride! I'm not looking for handouts, but I will take money to pimp my ride/home.

You might be wondering about that bird at the top of the page, too.  I felt like it was prett representative of me.  When you first see it, you might think "Hey, that bird's trying to drink some Snapple!"  Then, it changes to wondering if it's a statement concerning pollution.  Is it a joke?  Is it serious?  Here's the keynote of the matter: it doesn't matter.  He'll never get that cap off.  Stupid bird.