Wilkommen to the_mind_is_a_terrible_thing_of_waste. This blog might be considered an observed practice, where I am the high school football player (the Internet accepts all applicants; there are no tryouts) and you are the reflective grandfather watching your clumsy grandson stumble around the field, getting tackled while introspectively yanking at his jockstrap. So be kind old-timer. This is an awkward, transitional period of self-discovery in my life, and I’m vulnerable to hormonal rants, emotional vomiting, confidence-scarring bacne, and grammatical boners — raging and incapable of being contained by the sweatpants of automated spellcheck reform. If I’m lucky, maybe I’ll hit a growth spurt in my creative endeavors, but first I’ll have to stop overusing tired metaphors.
One more thing. Posts on this blog will often be spontaneous and occasionally day-to-day synopsis heavy. However, when I’m not telling you about how many beers I drank at that party on that street at the house where the roommates have the video thing…you know the one! then I’ll be posting pieces that I placed some genuine effort into. Each will be labeled Technologically Rendered Effort Against Typing Shit (T.R.E.A.T.S.). I’m not entirely sure how to pluralize that acronym. Technologically Rendered Efforts Against Typing Shit (T.R.E.’sA.T.S.) and Technologically Rendered Effort Against Typing Shits (T.R.E.A.T.S.’s) are both in the running. Although the second acronym sounds like it’s being pronounced by Gollum when spoken out loud. Anyway. Enough. Death to Tangents.