Holy Shit, the Upper Peninsula is Awesome.

Well, I'm finally back from my epic vacation in the land of trees and lakes. That's right, the upper peninsula of Michigan, also known as the deformed flipper hand to the LP's mitten. WHAT a vacation. Over the course of this trip: I turned 24. Lauren learned a lot about rum. We discovered that Steve has no reverence for the dead. I tackled Steve down a sand dune. Some of us may or may not be various mythological beasts. I found out that no one likes shining but me; we did it anyway. I ate pizza out of an envelope. STARTER LOGS ARE IMPORTANT. Using a grill she is unfamiliar with makes Lauren a bad cook. We went to the Mystery Spot; I have yet to vanish. We learned that just because a man looks and sounds a little bit like Buffalo Bill doesn't mean he expects you to put lotion on. Steve talked to a biker. I trained under a waterfall. I found out just how out of shape we all are. We tried out a new game we are tentatively calling "tubthumping". MANY MORE.

The story I've chosen to elaborate on today is how I became a flasher. On maybe our third day out, we decided it would be a great Idea to head to Munising falls. For those of you who don't know, the falls are an old and beautiful part of the upper peninsula, and a place with great connection to us all. We stood in awe and wonder, enjoying the view every second and every step of the way. Shortly thereafter, we were on our way. Suddenly, Catherine guided us to a secluded spot; a waterfall with no guardrails preventing us from entering.

Suddenly, despite the cold, our path was clear. I walked through mud, through streams, and across gravel and rocks. Once I reached the other side, grinning, I shed my shirt, my shoes, and all of my precious electronics. Then, I got in. Standing beneath the waterfall was exhilarating, to say the least. It felt like someone was throwing sharp ice cubes at my head.

Getting out, the error in my judgment suddenly became clear; my pants were soaked, and we had a several hour ride back into town. As I trekked back to the van, soaking wet and barefoot, a plan began to form. In my mind, the logic was simple: Pants chafe when wet. Pants are wet. Therefore? Don't wear pants! Congratulating myself on my logic, I had Brian grab ahold of my pants, and then, when the coast was clear, I leaped out of them and into the van in one clean motion. Now in only my underwear, I sat in the back, where the windows were tinted, and tried to get comfortable. After all, the drive back to town would be short and simple, right?

We immediately got lost. After driving a good hour down the road we were supposed to go down, we discovered that it was blocked off for construction. A feeling of dread settled over me as the others made the fateful decision to turn down a side road, relying on the GPS to see us through. Now, this DID work... eventually. After another hour of twisting, turning roads, the soaked underwear I was wearing began to become incredibly uncomfortable. In an attempt to relieve this, I slid them down a little. Shortly thereafter, I discovered that, due to them being soaked and cotton, they were reluctant to come back up. Slightly embarrassed, and now completely naked, I covered myself a little more, and settled in for a long, strange drive.

Shortly after, I realized something awful; I had to pee. Not your average, every day run of the mill peeing, either. This was epic, adventurous, DANGEROUS peeing. I had to go THEN, or else risk peeing accidentally while going down a steep hill or something equally unpleasant. We discussed the matter briefly, and agreed upon a solution.

Brian's trench coat.

That's how I ended up naked in a forest save a trench coat.

Neglect.

I've been quite busy lately. Don't worry, though, I'm going up north in a couple days. When I return, I'm SURE to have numerous stories and entertaining things to post about. In the meantime, enjoy this important public service announcement from Willem Dafoe.

Sick

Have you ever had that special kind of sick that seem to be slow acting? Like, you drift in and out of a fog of nastiness that just makes you feel confused and foggy and kind of like you've been drinking, but with none of the fun parts? I've been drifting down that icky sea for about a week. In between bouts of confusion and my body being unable to decide if it's feverish or below standard temperature, I've had strange moments of clarity. I vaguely recall eating, and I know I took several tests yesterday, but I honestly have no idea how I did. Or even what classes they were in. I bring this up in reference to one fact: I've been sucking at blogging this past week. Rest assured, to my faithful followers, what few of you there are, I hope to be back on form before long, and with one doozy of a post. Until then, please enjoy this photo of a dirty, possibly nude Thomas Jane with an improvised machete made out of a paper cutter:

My Brief Time As A Player of CIty Of Heroes

Sometimes, I second guess myself. I start to think, "Dude, Kyle, a billion people LOVE Twilight, maybe its not attrocious." Or, "You know, Kyle, maybe this whole 'rap' thing isn't a scourge." Or even something foolish, like "Kyle, you would look really AWESOME if you went back to the Hawaiian shirt with a tie style!" I'm always wrong to do it. Those instincts are right the first time. Which brings me to today's point: Massively Multiplayer Online games.

"Psst. Kyle. It's your brain. Maybe MMO's are fun!" My brain woke me up with that today. I told it to go away, because I felt sick, and had a terrible headache. "NO, seriously," my brain insisted. "Linda said you could have a free trial of City of Heroes. TRYYYYY IIIIIIIIIIIIT." My brain is an insistent little prick, sometimes.

So, today, whilst sickly and migrainey, I decided I should try out City of Heroes. So, I used the Free Trial code my dear friend Linda gave me. I waited for several hours, patiently, for it to download and install. I booted it up, and within twenty minutes rediscovered why I hate MMOs so bad.

It's not that I don't think they can be fun. It's not the graphics, or lack of story. It's not even the soul-deficient/mind bogglingly stupid/scary people that sometimes tend to play them. It's the fact that no matter how new my computer is, no matter how old the game is, and no matter how good my internet connection is, they are ALWAYS CHOPPY.

No amount of fiddling with settings, updates, or patches seems able to prevent this, with ANY MMO, and I've played several. I can carefully adjust things for hours, find just the right settings, and the whole damned thing still shudders like Michael J. Fox in a damned earthquake. (Sorry, Kat.) It's like the entire game is DETERMINED to be slow motion, but doesn't quite know what slow motion is.

It took me a minute total to turn my character in the direction necessary to progress. He continued to turn for a full five seconds after I let go of the button. I then had to repeat in the other direction, and I let go early in the hopes that adjusting my timing would help. It didn't. Now he stopped right on time, thus STILL not pointing the correct direction.

Maybe I'm missing something. Maybe there's some fundamental thing I'm doing wrong that the whole rest of the universe understands. Maybe I'm just touchy because of the terrible headache the gods of ouch have bestowed upon me. I don't know. I intend to ask Linda about this issue later. I'll keep you guys posted if I turn out to be making some kind of grievous error, but somehow, I doubt I am.

WHAT DID I DO!?

Oh ERROR! In my haste to complete my Batman list, I screwed up BIG TIME. I completely forgot about an episode that is easily my favorite of all time, though it's easy to see how, as the episode had little to nothing to do with Batman himself. SO now, the REAL #1:

Showdown

This episode is why I like westerns. Taking place mostly in the wild west, this incredible episode was a stealthy way to build an entire episode around DC comic's dark cowboy character, Jonah Hex. In it Rh'as Al Ghul recounts his wondrous tale of how he came face to scarred face with the man long ago. It was a wonderful episode, full of action, twists and turns, and yet another opportunity to see that not every action taken by a Batman villain is for evil purposes.

The Batman

So, lately I've been watching the Batman animated series, and I have come to the conclusion that Batman is even more awesome than I thought. The writing on that series was top notch, and it had just as much if not even more to do with the rebirth of Batman from the silly Adam West era to the dark, powerful era as the Tim Burton film. As such, I've decided to write a top ten list of my favorite Batman Animated series episodes.

10. Almost Got 'Im

This one is a classic. A bunch of villains, hanging out playing poker. The Joker, Two-face, Penguin, Croc, and Ivy all swapping stories about the time that infernal Batman got away. It's FULL of jokes I have never forgotten to this day ("It was a big rock..."), as well as some genuinely interesting villain plans. Add to that the origin of the giant penny in the Batcave, and you have one hell of an episode.

9. Feat of Clay

The first major villain reworking of the series is also one of the darkest and most disturbing. An actor, tragically disfigured, gets addicted to a non-surgical cosmetic, the side effects of an overdose of which turns him into the icky, twisted Clay-Face. I think this is when I first realized as a kid that if my parents ever really payed attention to the shows I was watching, they might not let me watch it at all. The visuals on Clay-Face are always stunning, as well.

8. Mad as a Hatter

Oh frabjous day! Caloo, calay! This is the first time as a kid I remember wanting the villain to find a way to win. The poor, lonely Jervis Tetch only wanted a way to his beloved Alice's heart. As a kid who got pushed around and had considerable lady troubles, I couldn't help but identify with the man. After all, what would you do if you had the power to control those who hurt you? Plus, top hats and Alice in Wonderland are the shit.

7. If You're So Smart, Why Aren't You Rich?

A video game designer is fired after being cheated out of his profits by his shiftless boss. In revenge, he builds an intricate full size maze in the form of the game and traps the boss inside. Once again, I identify with the villain. In this first appearance of the Riddler, I wanted to root for Batman, but the scummy boss was so nasty that it was difficult to do. This marks the only version of the Riddler I've ever seen that doesn't come across like some half-baked rip-off of either the Joker or Jigsaw ala the Saw films. Truly a milestone episode.

6. The Man Who Killed Batman

In this GLORIOUS episode, a barely dangerous racketeer apparently offs the Batman, only to discover that doing so was not in his best interests. Everyone in Gotham wants a piece of him, if not to prove they're tougher, then because they're afraid of him. Or in one memorable case, because Batman is the Yin to their Yang. That's right folk, the Joker himself goes after this poor wimp of a man, very upset that he's deprived him of his lifelong game of cat and mouse with the Batman. Hysterically funny throughout, this is truly one of the best episodes I've ever seen.

5. The Laughing Fish

The Joker invents a twisted fish with the same horrible smile on its face that he has. Eager for profits, the Joker holds Gotham City in a reign of terror, demanding a copyright and his legal share of the profits from every Jokerfish sold. This episode really showcased the twisted attitude the Joker could display, as well as just how creative his strange plans can be. It also echoed an amusing story from the comics.

4. Perchance to Dream

Batman wakes up in a reality where he is just Bruce Wayne. His parents are alive, he is engaged to Selina Kyle, and all is right in the world. So why is he so sure its wrong? A twisted and pulse pounding episode, I didn't actually see this one as a child, and it's a damned good thing. God knows how much more twisted I'd be if I had see this reality questioning piece of excellence.

3. Two-Face

Harvey Dent appeared in several episodes long before this one, and was an established character. That made his horrible transformation into Two-Face a real spectacle to see. Amazingly acted by all involved, this Two-Face story is rivaled only by The Dark Knight itself, and established a lot I have grown to love about the character. It also showed that characters in this series were not untouchable. People could get hurt, and could stay that way.

2. Harley and Ivy

The Joker and Harley Quinn have a falling out, and she ends up staying with Poison Ivy. Implied lesbianism much? Aside from the fact that two of the sexiest characters ever written spend half the episode walking around in men's shirts (That's what women do when they're alone, right?), this episode was INCREDIBLY funny, with gags including the Joker being unable to find his pants without Harley's help. Equally hilarious is Batman's completely offscreen unexplained escape act in Act 3. This episode is truly one of the best the series ever had to offer.

1. Heart of Ice

The recreation of Mr. Freeze in this animated series is by far one of the most well known. He went from a gimmicky, barely one-dimensional character to the single most emotionally gripping member of the rogues gallery. Here we see a man, not evil, but truly broken. After losing everything he loves, he puts himself through a frozen hell for vengeance, yes, but also in an attempt to restore himself and his wife. A truly deep and depressing character, we saw Mr. Freeze come back time and time again, given not only his own movie, but resurrected in the excellent series Batman Beyond. This dark, icy mirror of Batman himself was truly chilling, if you'll forgive the pun.

There you have it! My top ten Batman episodes are a real tribute to those who worked on them, most notably Paul Dini and Bruce Timm. Those men, more than perhaps any other, shaped my sense of right and wrong, and what the word superhero truly means. I can honestly say that without this series, I wouldn't be nearly the same man today. They continue to this day with their excellent DC animated films and the truly exceptional Batman video game series. If you ever have opportunity, check this series out, no matter how old you are. You won't regret it.

WHYYYYYY!?

WHY CAN'T I STOP WATCHING INUYASHA!? I have forgone all other activities today, and I DON'T KNOW WHY! It's not an awful show and it has a great sentimentality for me, but holy crap, I just can't seem to stop watching it. I've seen several of these weird, long winded fighting anime, and this follows the pattern quite well, but something about it has just kept me watching LONG after I would have stopped watching any other show.

I've been totally neglecting my blog this week. Sorry about that! I'll pop back with a decent real post later on.

I'm a dancin' foo'.

So, evidently, I dance. I went to a wedding lat night, and was continually against dancing. It wasn't my style, my feet hurt, blah blah blah. I had a thousand reasons to say no, and only one reason to say yes. The problem was, I didn't count on just how compelling that one reason would be: alcohol.

There was an open bar, as is traditional, or so I've been told. So, as the evening wore on, I went through three whiskey sours. That's not actually that much, especially spread out over an entire quite long evening, however, I wasn't eating, and I could swear in court that the last two weren't so much "whiskey sours" as they were "whiskey whiskeys."

On the up side, I loosened up considerably. This led to me being downright unable to tear myself away from the dance floor. I discovered a heretofore unknown talent for slow dancing. I discoed, rather successfully in my opinion, and to top it all off, I did the twist and the Carlton to almost every song with the appropriate beat.

The downside is that while under the influence of alcohol, I forgot that I was wearing size 11 shoes, and I am a 13 1/2 wide. As a result, I am now hobbled. My feet are barely usable. Still, it was worth it. I look snazzy in a suit.

What Happened Next

Well, the next part of the tale of my move home is a petty gross one. A few weeks after moving home, also known as yesterday, I decided to stop by the apartment on a whim to pick up a few things from my roommate. As we went through the things in my room, it became clear that something awful had happened. Essentially everything I owned that had been left behind had a thick, disgusting carpet of mold growing on it.

How my roommate didn't notice any sort of smell or anything, I'll never understand, but almost everything was beyond salvage. Nearly every paperback book I own was destroyed, as well as a dozen or so important childhood keepsakes. A stuffed dog I've had since I was born looked like a rotting piece of meat.

What happened, as far as we can tell, is that the constant storms of the past few months cause water to seep in a constant stream into the corner of the room. Since I wasn't around for most of that time, simply, no one noticed. We're trying to save what we can, but most appears beyond saving. This kinda stinks. I'll try and post something funny or interesting later on, but for now... meh.

Blah blah blah.

I don't know what I'm blogging about, right now. I just know that I'm blogging! Steadfastly and doggedly moving forward in the face of utter confusion. The last couple of days are a weird haze of dizziness and hyperactivity brought on by new medication. My memory is so shot that it's become a source of amusement. I just had to retype the word source seven times because I couldn't get my brain to spell it. One of these days, I'll publish a blog without any corrections or editing, so that you can see how jacked up my stream of consciousness can be.

Anyways, what I was saying originally was that yesterday, I was so loopy that I forgot whether or not I had eaten several tacos. I dread tomorrow, as I'm simply not sure I'll be able to hold my brain together. If I can't, I'll be sure to update you guys on all the crazy land brain farts that pop through my wonky brain.

Pop Music

So, I'm a little flummoxed. I listen to 89X, and basically nothing else. Pop music is by no means my thing, and it never has been, but I never really had a problem with it. Nice, upbeat dance music, R&B, I get it. Fun, right? Well, in the past few years, where I've been ignoring pop music, it has gotten awful.

There's not a single song on the charts that you can even claim came from a BAND. It's all R&B and solo pop stars, like Lady Gaga. Now, I do actually like the odd song here and there. I even like some that could be considered rap, which goes against everything I know about myself. However, for every song I actually enjoy, there are two dozen insipid, barely listenable songs that either sample other songs to death or flat out steal the beats and lyrics. Those who don't steal them are formulaic and empty. It hurts to even listen to.

You can call me old fashioned or whatever, but I like a song with MUSIC. Like, something that's made with instruments, and a band. I don't dislike the computer generated music in its entirety, but when they've literally taken over the entire Top 100, I get sad. Come on, guys... don't you miss rock? I just don't think that the alternative station should be the only place I can listen to rock.

A Wonderful Way to Wake Up

Well, this morning was a weird one. I woke up to find Catherine's neighbor knocking on a window. She was yelling to her daughter to open the window. I became immediately confused, as the conversation seemed to be about a bird and a cell phone. I then heard some panicked screaming, and a door shut. Shortly after, the doorbell rang. Sighing, I dragged myself out of bed. Last night, I had the worst headache I've had since my hospital trip, so I was half convinced that I was hallucinating the whole thing. With a dirty shirt on, I stumbled downstairs.

What I found was an interesting sight indeed. The neighbor was in an absolute panic, and when she saw me, she ran up to me immediately. She quickly guided me into he apartment, and there, in a corner, was a terrified sparrow. Chuckling, and certain this would be easy to deal with, I took two steps toward the small bird. It became a pterodactyl. The screeching, panicked skybeast began flinging itself into every wall and mirror it could, in a desperate attempt to get away from me.

Shielding my face, I went straight after it, convinced that my experience with a cockatiel my mother owns made me qualified to get him. After chasing him around for a good five minutes, I had the bright idea to get a hand towel and attempt to net the poor bird. It worked to an extent, but every time I got him, it became difficult to pick him up without hurting him. Finally, Catherine arrived, and helped me. We got him stuck between a mirror and the wall, and then, like some kind of bird whisperer, she easily picked him up. Releasing him outside, we bid farewell to the little guy.

It was a strange morning, but it taught me something important. Catherine, unlike most girls, is not utterly terrified of tiny birds. Good to know.

Just a quick one...

So, I hear that some guy got stabbed in the eye at comic con, and all I can think is that he must have been an over-zealous Nick Fury fan. Like, "SHIT DUDE! They're selling Nick Fury eyepatches! Quick, STAB ME IN THE EYE!" And the other guy wouldn't do it, so he ran around starting fights with people, until one just stabbed him. Honestly, I don't know how I'd deal with losing an eye. There's just so many options. Eyepatch, glass eye, open socket to horrify children. Its just such a variable injury!

I really shouldn't joke about it I guess. I'm not particularly good at sharp things, and it's kind of amazing that I haven't managed to stab myself in the face yet. Like, I decided to teach myself how to use a sword. I went and got a cheap crappy one from a booth at the trade center, and I set about it. I'm all wobbly and stuff, so everyone EVERYWHERE told me I'd cut myself immediately. I was of course insistent that I would be just fine. It was a matter of days before I cut myself, proving absolutely everyone but me right Some people just shouldn't be around sharp objects. I'm one of them. Blah, I'm rambling now. The moral of the story is that I'm an idiot.

How I Ended Up Living Back At My Parents' House At Twenty-three.

So, those of you who follow my life with any sort of interest whatsoever probably know some of the story. Those who either have no clue who I am, or didn't pay any attention whatsoever will now learn the full tale of the adventure which started earlier this summer, and wound up with the creation of this blog. Now, as I write this, I'm running on Excedrin and coke, so forgive me any crazy tangents.

Approximately 38,000 years ago, I moved out of my parents house and into an apartment with a good friend of mine. Seeing as I quit/was fired (It was never really clear. I'll tell this story another time, if anyone wants to hear it.) literally the day before the lease was signed, perhaps it was not the best of plans. With no real plan or strategy other than letting pure, magical optimism power me through, I went through with it anyway. This removed me from any hope of being able to pay for medical expenses, but so what? I was young, eager, and I was wearing black slacks with accentuating off-white pinstripes, and I had become convinced by a Panic! At the Disco song that this meant everything would be okay. These moments of sheer optimism outshining any form of logic are common for me, and often end rather badly.

Now, for about six months, I lived there, and was even able to manage to pay some rent, despite my consistent unemployment. That too, is a story for another time, so suffice it to say that around the very start of summer, things took, well... a bit of a turn. First, I had just started school, working hard for the first time in my 23 years. Second, with immense help from my father, I had just managed to pay off my stupid credit card debt. Lesson learned, I was looking forward to life, and ready to keep blindly stumbling forward. I should have taken the fact that things were going immeasurably well as the first sign of possible trouble. Literally the day after I cut up my very last credit card, my brain decided it was time for me to die.

I had been feeling some sort of powerful panic building in my chest for days beforehand, and this was nothing new, as I have so many disorders and complexes that they have organized and ganged up on each other, leaving my brain to function rather normally. The sheer amount of time it had been going on was a bit odd, but still, anxiety is nothing new to me. I brushed it off, and went on with my life. On the morning in question, I awoke normally, yawned, started to get out of bed, and then my brain exploded. Suddenly, out of no where, I felt what was literally the worst pain I have ever felt. I thought absolutely for certain that something had pierced my brain, and I would die shortly. I decided it was time to fall down. After a little bit of time, I got to my feet, and stumbled to the bathroom. From there it become something of a blur. I know that I was convinced all I needed was a hot bath, and I know that at some point I must have texted my girlfriend, because very little time seemed to pass at all before it was midday, and she was there. By this point, the pain had subsided, but Catherine, who's mother is a nurse, had us both going in circles, and so she convinced me that the hospital was the correct answer.

"Hospital?" I scoffed. I had no insurance of any kind, you see, and the very idea struck me as laughable. "I'll be just fine." I was actually angry at Catherine for being worried, and when I realized that, I decided to let her take me. On the way is when the panic set in. Suddenly, I discovered that the left side of my face and left hand were going numb. The word came crashing into my head. I was convinced I was having a stroke. As we went in the first time, I was still reeling from the agony I had felt earlier in the day. As such, I have no idea if I dreamed some of this or if they were simple delirium, but I'm pretty sure that I had an Australian nurse. She might have been English or something, but honestly I'm not sure. The rest of that particular hospital trip was a blur. All I know is that at some point, they made me leave, with instructions to return if anything got worse. With that in mind, I went on my way.

Shortly thereafter, as it was Sunday, I made my way out to the middle of god damned nowhere for D&D, going through crazy-ass mood swings all the way. It was a surreal experience, to say the least. The next thing I remember for sure is yelling at a friend of mine for feeling sick enough to miss gaming. The logic there was that I "may have been currently having a stroke," so having a sickly stomach made little excuse not to show. I still stand by the logic, though honestly I don't get why I was quite so very angry. Unfortunately, by the time I reached gaming, I discovered that I was no longer making sense. In addition, my arm and face had gone completely numb. We turned right around, and headed straight back for the hospital. "Tell my story! I DIED TO PLAY D&D!" I bellowed. I felt that my death would not be in vain if I were to inspire someone to really COMMIT to a game.

Our second arrival was a little more frantic. By this time, it was officially night, and the emergency room was busy. Still, it was no time at all before I was in a room. I was unconcerned, watching Family Guy, when it happened. I had to get a spinal tap. I had very little hope that it would involve an amusing rock band, and way more to do with a four inch needle rammed into my spine. It was the second most agonizing experience of my life, after the pain that brought me there. Well, the third. I have seen Twilight, after all.

In any case, to speed things up a little, I'll skip the rest of the battery of tests, as well as the horrible night I spent drugged out of my mind at the hospital. Never having stayed in one before, it was awful, but I don't feel the need to elaborate on every detail. Perhaps another time. Long story short, the next day, I left the hospital with two things. One was a diagnosis of, "We don't know, a migraine maybe? Not a stroke. Probably. Just keep an eye on that." The other was a bill for six thousand dollars.

Six thousand dollars is a lot of money to someone who has no job. This was the final blow. I had to move back home. Luckily, my parents did little more than shake their heads and say, "You still have a key." Soon, I did what was necessary, and loaded the essentials into a truck, and returned to the room I grew up in. Of course, all my stuff was gone. It was now my Dad's guitar room. Just a room with three guitars. Pretty great mental image, that.

Well, I've officially stopped making sense. Time to call it for now. Tune in later for Part 2, or What Kyle Did This Week!

Yeah, yeah...

I know what you're thinking. "But Kyle," your eyes say. "You already have two blogs that nobody reads but your dad. (Hi Dad!) Why on earth do you think a THIRD blog is a good plan?" To answer this question as honestly as I can: I don't. I THINK IT'S A GREAT PLAN. I was sitting in my room today, experiencing an agonizing headache, wondering just how I could make my life work. I've tried a thousand things, and they always seem to explode, mostly because I flat out forget to press the "don't explode" button. I'm trying, here and now, to finish this once and for all. I decree that I shall ACTUALLY UPDATE THIS BLOG.

"Surely, Kyle," your eyes say, "You jest. Were you to regularly update a blog, surely the world would itself would cease to turn. Oceans would boil, the continents would crack, and all would cease to be." This is of course, a possibility. Personally, I am willing to take that risk. This seems likely to be one of those weird bursts of creative energy I get, wherein I actually do something for a while, be it write, work, or even try and learn to play the spoons as a musical instrument. (Don't ask.) Unlike those times, however, I shall be putting all of my effort into maintaining this momentum.

I'll go on and on about anime, and movies, and stuff that happens to me. I'll try to make you people laugh, but really, its all about amusing myself, and proving to myself that I can do this. Go ahead. Leave comments. I DARE YOU. With that, I declare this new blog OPEN.