This is it. The inaugural post. I am currently standing by my kitchen counter accompanied by a large bowl of mashed potatoes and a dirty spoon. The door opens and a man walks in, trenchcoat wet from the pouring rain. In a well-timed flash of lightning I see his face. It is unfamiliar. He walks up to me and takes the spoon, digging into the potatoes.
"How much does it cost to find a group of lost carrier pigeons?" he asks through a mouthful of food.
I reach down and grab a half-empty bottle of gin from near my feet. It was going to be a long night.
But I digress. If only my entire life was narrated like a cheap noir film. Like Guy Noir on the Prarie Home Companion. That would be nice. It's not, but I can pretend like it is on here.
My mother, for some crazy reason, wants my entire family to write a blog. Not her, of course; the rest of us should do it. So I'm writing mine as if my life really were a noir film. It will probably involve my college life as well, since that takes up most of my time, or reminiscences about my brother and I doing some ridiculous thing or other.
This should be exciting.