After horrible, horrible, unspoken and imaginary pressure by certain parties who shall remain nameless (darn you, Ronda!), I have decided to start this blog, despite the fact that I really should be finishing up some things for school right now. (Okay, probably because I should be finishing up some things for school right now. Never let it be said that I couldn't cop to my prediliction for procrastination.) I have no idea how often I will update it, and I offer no promises as to how entertaining it might be. It is, however, less creepy (to me) than putting up a profile on MySpace.
A note on this blog's title: I am, at present, forced to include a disclaimer on my answering machine's outgoing message that I am not a particular Kevin T--an author of a popular book on supposed herbal cures and a convicted felon on fraud charges (are the two linked? who can say....without opening oneself to libel charges, at least....). I was forced to take this step, as well as ordering caller ID, once I started to receive two to three calls a day looking for this idiot, who also happens to reside in the same area as I do. He, happily for him, has an unlisted number. I don't, so I regularly get complaint calls and e-mails (some quite abusive) intended for him. Let me just say that I have a white-hot burning disdain for the individual who has the bad fortune (for me!) of sharing my name....may he suffer the discomfort of a hundred paper cuts! Rubbed with lemon! And salt! With no band-aid in sight! And only nasty stinging Bactine to clean the cuts!
I shall say no more on this subject.
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This blog has no purpose. It is blog for blog's sake.
This blog has no purpose. It is blog for blog's sake.
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3 comments:
I knew you were powerless to resist, you lurking lurker of my blogspot!
I'll pass on a compliment (uh, I assumed it was that, anyway) given to me by my friend Mike when I started posting: "Finally, the person who SHOULD be blogging, IS."
Trudeau, Trudeau, Trudeau;
You're like some ancient beast in a horror movie; one that rises up from the procrustean depths to demand a sacrifice every decade and then vanishes. Glad to see you're still around, though.
That said, my condolences. I had no idea you were in Joliet. Parking tickets, no doubt; but I'm sure you'll get time off for good behavior.
And the sacrifice I demand is....
Duck sausage!
Don't worry Dave--I intend to make it out to S.F. sometime very soon, and when I do, you may place your burnt offering upon the altar. (Wait, that sounds a little odd....)
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