This is my blog and I can ruin it if I want to.

Dear Gentle Reader,

This is the first entry of my first blog, on the first day of the rest of my sad, sad life using this, the saddest of all media - the personal blog. Now that we've got that out of the way, bring on the incoherent rambling!

The Internet has come a long way. First envisioned as a fail-safe/fault-tolerant network, the Internet has proudly progressed to bigger and better things, such as... helping Obama fundraise enough money to become the first tanned President of America; making a genius like this guy rich and famous for making fun of the rich and famous; and helping videos regarding girls and cups get the recognition they deserve. Oh, and I can watch tv shows/movies whenever I want; zomg episode 7 of Glee made me want to set myself on fire...er, with awesomeness? And I got to watch it on surfthechannel.com. Btw, I don't care if you think the show is gay. You know what else is gay? Your dad. And reading blogs. Snap!

Anyway, back to the point. My entry into the Blogosphere - I can't believe it only took TWO paragraphs for me to use that gem - is bittersweet. Well, bittersweet may not be accurate; I'm not talking bittersweet the way extra dark chocolate is, but rather, the way twizzlers taste when the bulimic chick everybody knows (let's call her Yaletowngirl) pukes them up. Ok, so it's bittersweet Internet bullimia. Despite that image, I am optimistic about this blogging experiment because it will allow me to express my, shall we say, distaste for people/things/random acts of Dog without taking an AK-47 onto a rooftop. Sounds good, right?

The con? Close to a majority of you toolboxes - 42 per cent in Canada - are semi-illiterate, so I have to use small words and probably a lot of pictures/photographs/pie charts to help you understand the complex and often unintelligible thoughts that keep pouring out this big liquor-soaked brain of mine.

Ugh, I'm TL (too lazy) to get to the point, so I'll close with this pearl of wisdom - opinions are like assholes; everybody has one.

Until next time,

-jean-claude van damaged