EVENT OF THE CENTURY!!!!

Drum roll please….

I know you’re impressed and are just embarrassed you didn’t think of the same tacky and cliché opening that precedes almost every tacky event. Especially for things that really aren’t really events but just pretend events. To be an event someone would actually have to care. But who cares about the absent minded ramblings of a repetitive, cliché ridden, Black Swamp exile.

WELL IT MATTERS TO ME! So I’m calling it an EVENT.

EVENT OF THE CENTURY!!!…CENTURY…Century….century…….

Or at least until my lunch is over.

Welcome to my first and probably last blog page. A long lost friend once asked me, “Who let you procreate?” That was before he tragically lost his way and blended into the mountainous jungles of southern Ohio. (Jungles in Ohio?) Yes, jungles. Don’t ask.

Ahem. Back to my story. “Who let you procreate?” he says, I of course responded that I was allowed a “special” waiver. They never thought I would find someone to consent to bear my children. God Bless my wife.

What has this to do with this blog page? Well it was more difficult to put this together than it was to get the waiver.

The bad jokes keep rolling. I write them so no one else will have to.

Well now that this “EVENT OF THE CENTURY” is nearly over. I’d like to say welcome again to my mindless ramblings and I hope that you take away with you two things after visiting this page.

First, that you walk away with a slight smile and bounce in your step.

Second, that you count yourself lucky not to be related to me because gene’s like this could really screw up what may be a better than average genetic pool. Consider yourself fortunate.

Thus ends the…

EVENT OF THE CENTURY!!!! CENTURY!!!! Century!!!! century………..

Hey! Get away from my lunch! Back witch! BACK!