So today is the day that I’ve decided to start a blog. For years upon years I’ve been mulling it over but eventually I always end up talking myself out of it. Who would want to hear what a lowly twenty-something in the great, albeit often misunderstood, city of Baltimore would have to say? Most likely not a soul but screw it. I might as well document my activities so that they can someday entertain, if no one else, my unborn children. That is assuming that the universe will allow such spawn between me and “Shorty” (a nickname given to my dearest in college, and one that I’ll explain sometime in the future).
As I was lacing up my tennis shoes that haven’t seen any action since April, I realized that I was bound to amuse someone other than myself and my unborn with tales of restaurateurism (which yes, is now a word because I declared it so) and other anecdotes from my little life here in Charm City. Since that decision just a brief moment ago, and only after knotting the bows of my sneaks, I am also acutely aware of the fact made obvious from not just the odor but also the feel of the laces that one of my 3 asshole animals had positively urinated on them. So sit back, relax, and join me on this journey of absurdity. Brace yourselves folks, this is about to get weird.
Oh, and happy #memeMonday
