Hey! It's my first SG blog!
I'd be pretty much every first blog begins with some variation on the phrase, "This is my first blog." Yet, only a select few of us are willing to see that. And even fewer of us acknowledge the irony in starting our own blog with this lame-ass opener, and then pointing out how lame-ass it is.
So... um... how's your neighbor? How did I end up on this site, anyways? I ask myself that question sometimes (I also often ask myself, "How do I work this thing?" and "Where is that large automobile?" but that's entirely irrelevant at this point in the blog). It's actually very simple, in a two-fold sort of way: First, I've been browsing around at the free stuff on this site long enough that I figured it was high time I ponied up the $4 a month to be able to see a host of the type of women I used to spend hours upon hours scouring the 'net for, and to also actually possibly (all hail the double adverb) get to know some of these people, at least in an e-sense. Second, I just ended a six and a half year relationship, and... well, needless to say, I have a fair amount of free time on my hands these days.
So I made up a playlist of Bad Songs to listen to, and I just got to that "Crazy Bitch" song, and I have to wonder... what was the motivation behind this song? I mean, was this supposed to be a serious let's-get-it-on song, or did the guys from Buckcherry just write this so they could one day be cruising around L.A., hear it on the radio, and say, "Dude, I can't believe we actually got this song on the radio?" I mean, it's kind of a fun song, but it's not a GOOD song. It's amusing when you're with your buddies and have a few beers in you, but it's not something you'd put on your mp3 player and strut down the street to. It's sort of like pro-wrestling in that sense:
The Rock Bottom: One of many pro-wrestling maneuvers which is best enjoyed with at least three friends who've collectively drunk, at minimum, a case of PBR.
Now the only thing I have to do is make some friends on this thing. I have no friends. I mean, I have friends -- well, actually, I don't have friends so much as I have bartenders and waitresses -- I just don't have any SG friends yet. Which is really my own fault; I haven't exactly tried to ADD anybody as my friend. I suppose it's because I'm nervous. I got my first computer when I was 18, and spent countless hours in chatrooms getting to know people who were more entertaining than anybody I went to high school with, and that actually helped to make me a somewhat social individual, but now it's as if that's flipped. Or flopped. I mean, being myself online gave me a certain level of confidence that growing up pigeonholed in a town of 2500 people will never allow you. But because I was able to meet people online and have them like me for who I really was, I'm now nervous about letting people see me for who I am online, because it's worked before and I suppose I'm just a tad scared of success.
Such is life.
G'night, blog.
I'd be pretty much every first blog begins with some variation on the phrase, "This is my first blog." Yet, only a select few of us are willing to see that. And even fewer of us acknowledge the irony in starting our own blog with this lame-ass opener, and then pointing out how lame-ass it is.
So... um... how's your neighbor? How did I end up on this site, anyways? I ask myself that question sometimes (I also often ask myself, "How do I work this thing?" and "Where is that large automobile?" but that's entirely irrelevant at this point in the blog). It's actually very simple, in a two-fold sort of way: First, I've been browsing around at the free stuff on this site long enough that I figured it was high time I ponied up the $4 a month to be able to see a host of the type of women I used to spend hours upon hours scouring the 'net for, and to also actually possibly (all hail the double adverb) get to know some of these people, at least in an e-sense. Second, I just ended a six and a half year relationship, and... well, needless to say, I have a fair amount of free time on my hands these days.
So I made up a playlist of Bad Songs to listen to, and I just got to that "Crazy Bitch" song, and I have to wonder... what was the motivation behind this song? I mean, was this supposed to be a serious let's-get-it-on song, or did the guys from Buckcherry just write this so they could one day be cruising around L.A., hear it on the radio, and say, "Dude, I can't believe we actually got this song on the radio?" I mean, it's kind of a fun song, but it's not a GOOD song. It's amusing when you're with your buddies and have a few beers in you, but it's not something you'd put on your mp3 player and strut down the street to. It's sort of like pro-wrestling in that sense:
The Rock Bottom: One of many pro-wrestling maneuvers which is best enjoyed with at least three friends who've collectively drunk, at minimum, a case of PBR.
Now the only thing I have to do is make some friends on this thing. I have no friends. I mean, I have friends -- well, actually, I don't have friends so much as I have bartenders and waitresses -- I just don't have any SG friends yet. Which is really my own fault; I haven't exactly tried to ADD anybody as my friend. I suppose it's because I'm nervous. I got my first computer when I was 18, and spent countless hours in chatrooms getting to know people who were more entertaining than anybody I went to high school with, and that actually helped to make me a somewhat social individual, but now it's as if that's flipped. Or flopped. I mean, being myself online gave me a certain level of confidence that growing up pigeonholed in a town of 2500 people will never allow you. But because I was able to meet people online and have them like me for who I really was, I'm now nervous about letting people see me for who I am online, because it's worked before and I suppose I'm just a tad scared of success.
Such is life.
G'night, blog.
Nice blog btw!
Cheers!