the prologue

I have heard it said that life is like a book and when you haven’t traveled it’s like you have only read one page. Well if my life’s a book it would be a long one, so I hope they make a movie soon so I don’t have to read it… staring Ryan Reynolds (as me) of coarse whose romantic interest is…lets see…

Wait, why am I doing this? Why am I subjugating myself to the burden of believing that you actually give a damn? The answer is simple. I believe that technology and style are cyclical and that blogs not unlike beepers are on the way back in: see cut off jean shorts and riding a bike for transportation… and this time I am ahead of the curve. Actually, I am just providing good company for “the artist formally know as Kdawg’s” blog. alliteration alert. (in the editing stage I realized Kdawg’s blog…is not an alliteration just slant rhyme…thanks NPS…sigh) Which incidentally is freaking amazing. OR maybe I am just creating a rival blog like the movie Warriors minus mimes with baseball bats but plus really bad grammar…no actually that’s parts the same.

“Its three in the morning” and though I am not sleeping… yet…(I am a ticking time bomb of sleep and I just cut colored wires at random for kicks) I do still have clothes on, which ironically is fundamentally against the no shirt policy at the waffle house. If you are already really lost than you are probably reading the wrong blog. It’s funny what seemingly inconsequential things we are “remember”ed by. More often then not they are not what we want, but I will say this if one of you plays that song at my funeral when I see you in heaven…I will f*&K your new perfect body up… or just haunt you forever (choose terrible fate dependent upon beliefs system). Actually, today I found the original accapella version of that song. = More embarrassing than the version you know and love if that’s possible. Speaking of pop.

The king is dead long live the king. We ask how soon is too soon to start making jokes. I am not sure, but hear is the one I heard the day after MJ died. What was the first question Michael asked when he got to heaven? …Do you have an amusement park? I kid I kid, we all know Michael isn’t in heaven. On a seriously note if your Catholic start praying for because he is def in purgatory, well actually maybe not I have heard that Catholics don’t really mind the touching little boys. Stop screaming McCauley…just let the robber in.

For those of you who know us, automatically know the 3 golden questions, the most important of which being: Do you like waffles? I think its due time that I suggest a fourth. If you were bread, what type of bread would you be? We have decided that Nate would be Rye, because rye bread is a bit of an enigma and when given the choice white wheat or rye I have never heard someone pick rye. I Andrew am friendship bread, because everyone loves me but CJ, and sometimes I am forgotten and burned hard as a brick. Last but not least, CJ of course is sour dough, to know why (hang with CJ for a day).

So I guess that was a good enough start, despite that fact that it came in mid-thought. The beginning is not always “a very good place to start” Julie Andrew’s even if you do immortalize ideas like that and the repression of fear in the format of catchy songs. I refuse to take this too seriously yet this is not going to be a series or crafty punch lines either… anyone who has heard my standup would know that if it was like that it would be boring. Honestly, I am nursing myself back to health from a pretty bad case of whistle foot and an embarrassingly short drinking binge that has left me reeling. I have never felt less sure of myself than when staring at the bottom of a bottle, so I have put it down for a while and started blogging, which I have heard is remotely like group therapy. Let me here your resounding: Hello, Andrew.