The Shot Heard 'Round the...Blog...Thingy.

I'm a lazy writer.

I'm going to repeat that, because I think it bears repeating.

I'm a lazy writer.

Ok. I've admitted it. Only eleven more steps to go, right? Is admitting something even the first step? There are twelve steps, are there not? I'm pretty sure about that. Don't I have to concede a higher power at some point? Yikes. This is getting dicey. You know what? Let's forget I ever mentioned the twelve steps.

My point is I need to get myself to write more.

I love to write. Always have. When I was a wee lad, I used to write books in my bedroom. I remember that almost all of them were about lost dogs embroiled in high adventure. You know; raging rivers to cross, wolves to battle, evil dog-catchers to thwart. Standard lost dog stuff. I would write them on notebook paper, leaving space for the illustrations I would add later. It's fair to say that these carefully rendered pictures would not cause even a mediocre illustrator to lose any sleep over perceived competition coming from my end. They weren't stick figures, but they were amorphic blobs that, depending on the day, may or may not have resembled an actual dog.

After I wove my verbal tapestry, then cheapened it with my "art", I would bind my book with about 36 staples. Nine times out of ten, you could barely open it. (This was probably best, because it spared you the full brunt of the pictures.) After I sodered that sucker shut, I then gave it to my Mom to enjoy.

My Mom never saved any of these opuses. Why I'll never know. I think that's something for my therapist and I to mull over. I'd think she'd have saved at least one in case I ever mentioned going to art school. She could whip that sucker out, pry off twelve or thirteen staples, and show me a handful of reasons why that idea was probably right up there with parachute pants and lite beer.

These days, I stick to the written word. I have forsaken any and all forms of visual expression. You're welcome.

My goal with this blog is to force myself to write more often. That and to share my bountiful pool of knowledge and endless opinions with anyone foolhardy enough to look at this and say, "Hey! Look at that! I am definitely reading this!" If you read this you'll learn that I think I know something about damn near everything. You'll learn that not only do I have an opinion on everything, but my opinion is always right. If you think it isn't right, then it's your opinion that's wrong. Please remember that. It'll save so much confusion, tears and use of language that would make Jesus cry. You'll learn that when you had to make that decision between watching "Roadhouse" on TNT and reading this blog, you made the wrong decision. I mean, have you seen Swayze's hair and chic yet rugged and casual wardrobe in that movie? It's like Adonis and Duran Duran had a baby. What the hell were you thinking when you opted out of that viewing experience?

Well, that's my plan. Enjoy my opinions, my overwrought ideas and my inane ramblings. Oh, and please try not to make Jesus cry.