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Right now, I am sitting in my kitchen, still vaguely hung-over with eye-strain from spending nearly a whole day goofing around on social networking sites. It's been far to long. I used to love to blog, spewing out endless rants about life, air-horns, corn fields, french bread (or is it poop?), music, musings (oooh. Interesting etymological connection that I never realized - muse/music), and other shit peppered with parenthetical asides, misuses of semi-colons, opinions of both the half-baked and overdone variety, and the rare occasional thoughtful insight.

I stopped, partly because I've always felt embarrassed about the shameless "ME" show that the internet has become and partly more because I'm even more embarrassed that I like it so much. I guess the heathen apple doesn't fall far from the Catholic tree if I feel guilty about enjoying something which is really just good inane, vapid fun. There are more reasons than that but I won't delve. Suffice it to say that the reasons we do anything are always so varied and intricate that motivation becomes a hard thing to understand.

Except for sex. It's not hard to understand that one.

So, here I am at the crest of my life, maybe half-way through, maybe not. I've got three years of accumulated thought in my head looking for an outlet and now I've found it. Politics, books, sports, people, events, hopes, fears, ambitions, and even an occasional secret will become fodder for myself to ponder as well as the one or two people who are likely to read this.

At any rate, hi, how are you, welcome, and take it easy.

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