So I've decided to start a blog where I can post about the cool things I make and cook and all that jazz. Also, I'm freaking hilarious and have funny things to say and they give just about anyone a blog nowadays. It's like no one is even montitoring the internet. Except for China and possibly North Korea, but, whatever. It's impolite to discuss politics on the first date.
Plus, I really want to be famous so I can quit my boresome day job and hang out in my apartment and not wear pants and eat veggie chips and think about how famous I am. One of life's greatest hardships is that veggie chips aren't all that healthy when you eat the whole bag at one time. One of life's other greatest hardships is pants. (After I wrote that bit about being famous, it seems I would turn into an amorphous blob of fried vegetable matter who never leaves my apartment. Perhaps fame isn't for me after all. Drat. Now I have to find a new plan.)
Also, when the zombie apocolypse happens perhaps my blog will teach future generations about culture as it once was, provided we're not all zombies. Zombies don't seem to care much for culture. They probably can't even tell the difference between a smart person's brain and a moron's brain and that's a right shame. If I become a zombie I pledge I'll have discriminating taste when it comes to brains. That's my promise to you, society. You're welcome. I probably wouldn't make a very good zombie and would be immediately killed by straggling human survivors, but that's okay. It would be especially okay if that straggling human survivor was Norman Reedus, but I suppose I can't be picky.
Anywho, I'll do a real "look-at-me-being-a-responsible-adult-crafy-blog-poster-person" post later (if I don't turn into a zombie first).