First blogpost

When I sat down to start typing this I was instantly forced to answer an internal question; Is this called my first blog or my first post? I couldn't decide because I simply didn't know. I call it my first blogpost, just to be safe.

Alright Ramblers, let's get rambling.

My life lately has been without much contact with friends, which I hope doesn't last much longer. I graduated in December and quickly got out of the state of Oklahoma, leaving many friends behind. All of my efforts lately have been put toward getting myself set up in San Antonio. Most of my free time I have spent growing a beard, reading books, playing with my dog (I'm a full-grown man, I will lay in the grass all day!) and playing NHL 2K8. But now that things seem to be heading in the right direction for me as far as work goes, I decided it was time to start a blog.

Back to the beard. It's over. Flushed down the drain along with my dignity.

I was thinking about my recent follicle flolicking, and it seemed to me that it was coinciding with the Dallas Stars miserable record as of late. So I did what any fan would've done, I got out the Mach 3 and went to work. Halfway through, though, I thought about my brother and some friends (namely: Chris Creecy and Nate Aune) who had proudly donned "Trash-Stache's" in the last few months. The opportunity presented itself and I grabbed both handlebars, riding destiny towards my lip-rat.

The day was March 27th and later that evening the Stars would be facing off against rival San Jose Sharks. In the meantime, however, I had some time and hunger to kill. In situations like these, there is only one thing to do.

So as I slid my tray down the metal rails in front of all the sneeze-guards at Luby's I seemed to notice several 'twenty-somethings' who worked there gathering around and laughing, presumably at my whisker-wool. The thing that made me feel better about myself was realizing that the leader of the pack had a moustache too, he just didn't think he did. It was the kind of beard reserved for people like Turtle from Entourage, and the pencil-line crap down the side of his face was nowhere close to bridging the gap with his upper lip display.

Let it be known that I would have laughed at myself too.

So now that half (figuratively speaking, not percentage wise--of course) of my facial hair had been removed, I was ready to tune in and see just how much the Stars could accomplish. I fully expected calls after the game thanking me for my unselfishness. The puck dropped and things went well, atleast better than they had been going, for most of the game.

The verdict: a loss in overtime. This meant that the Stars would pick up one point (half that of a win).

Now that the lip is smooth once again, I am ready for the next game. Maybe this time Dallas will finish the job, something I hadn't done earlier with my razor.

Let's go Stars!