A Test of the Emergency Warning System

Duck and cover! Batten down the hatches! YES, RUN! In a vain attempt for power, or through another delusional dream, I have decided to fortify this location the the Internet. (It's not easy to see if it is of any strategic importance, but I sure hope so, for my sake). For those simply hit the "Next Blog" and coincidentally will find themselves here reading the first of hopefully many entries into this blog, I hope I don't scare you away. If I am, stop reading now, and hit that "Next Blog" button again at the top of your browser window; perhaps the next one you hit will be in Spanglish, or dedicated train engines, or a blog that stars three 16-year old party girls from Timbuktu. Who knows? The world is a big place, and if you cannot accommodate me in that world, I will not cry. Again, if you must, RUN. DON'T LOOK BACK.

For those who would associate themselves with me (read: my friends, but you don't have to use that for your sake), you had better find it in yourselves to be obligated to read whatever incoherent babbling I post. You don't have to comment, but at least take it to heart, or at least take an attempt to process it into coherency. I would do the same for you. I truly would.

So what is this? This is a blog, obviously. But beyond that, it's just as simple to explain; none of that mystical mumbo-jumbo, if that's what you were expecting. I run this blog - simple as that, and I shall post (hopefully on a regular basis) anything I find relevant to amuse yourself at my expense (those are usually fun, aren't they - ADMIT IT). And you, as the reader, read, or at least take an attempt to understand what I am trying to communicate. I would like to think and tell myself that I have some measure of wit, otherwise, this entire post and in effect, the entire blog is just a waste on my efforts and would be an extreme waste of my time to continue further. I'll make it clear I'm not neccessarily going to stop posting if I don't get comments. I'm not an emotionally broken 14-year old boy from Wisconsin whose mother dropped him on his head as an infant and whose father was afraid of pen protectors and Clint Eastwood movies. Perhaps if it has to be so, I will use this blog to document my descent into madness, provided I am still lucid at the end.