Hello, Blogging World

It's me. Finally. The writer you've all been waiting for. I'm the equivalent of having consensual sex with the girl you crushed on through six years of high school but never had the balls to even look in the eyes. I'm the clit piercing that gives you an orgasm every time you walk up the stairs. I'm Walmart, and you're the poor conservative from the Bible Belt. I'm the Highlander, and there can be only one. For you simpler folk, I'm peanut butter and you're jelly. And for those of you who simply cannot wrap your head around any sort of somewhat-clever metaphor, I'M THE BEST DAMN WRITER YOU'RE EVER GOING TO HAVE THE PLEASURE TO READ. ASSHOLE.

All joking aside, I haven't posted a blog since I had a Xanga in my senior year of high school. In 2003/2004. Does Xanga even exist anymore? I fucking hope not, because the shit I used to post on there was really embarrassing (not that the shit I'm going to post on here will be any less embarrassing, just possibly less pathetic).

Fuck, I'm getting old. Yet not wiser, only less socially awkward.

So why am I posting again? You can blame the badsandwichchronicles. I figured, fuck, if some asshole from a shitty band can post terrible blogs about his kid and dog shit and making a movie about pedophilia, then what the fuck am I waiting for? He's even got 30 some people commenting on every blog telling him how funny it is! Now, granted, this guy's articles might actually be humorous, but, I refuse to read them. Instead, all those comments are probably just a pathetic cry for help from groupies that would suck this band-guy's dick and swallow his cum before you can say "ramblin boys of pleasure," if you catch my drift.

Mama didn't try hard enough, dick.

Anyways, I write a few funny articles every once in awhile, share them with the harshest critics (my friends), then lock them away to collect dust (the articles, not my friends). Now, for some idiotic reason, I've decided to post my work for all you internet trolls that 99% of the time have nothing nice to say. Frankly, your "harsh" criticism wouldn't be so bad if most of you could actually create insults that reside higher than your fifth grade reading comprehension. Unfortunately for me (and your intelligence), I'll probably be stuck with grade school insults such as "Get fucked" or "You suck." Clever.

Then, on the other side of the spectrum, I'll have those pretentious assholes that made it through one year of art school before flunking out, viciously attacking my comment section with all the voracity a skinny 19-year-old college drop-out can muster (which, suffice to say, isn't much). I always imagine your types to be horrifically ugly, hiding behind dyed-black strands of hair, furiously masturbating at the hopes that some ingenious flame will spontaneously appear from your fingertips the same time your 2-inch penis erupts all over the bottom of your computer desk. One worthless seed deserves another, eh?

Wow. That whole analogy was probably way too vague, long, and confusing, but to be honest with you, I don't really give a fuck. You see, this blog will be a hodgepodge of shit. Sometimes I'll just rant about daily things in my life, trying to be funny but not really giving a shit about sentence structure, timing, or comprehension (unfortunately, all those things are needed to be amusing. Oh well.). Other times I will try to be funny and worry about sentence structure, timing, and comprehension. I will still fail. Rarely, I will try to be funny, worry about sentence structure, timing, and comprehension, AND succeed. Unfortunately, this will only occur when I'm making a dead baby joke. Also, this joke will be on the same level of "ha-ha" as Dane Cook and Carlos Mencia, making it legal in 28 states to kill me, no questions asked.

With humour like that, I pray for death.

Welcome, to the Pining Apple.