It's three in the morning and I just saw a woman orgasm three times in 15 seconds to a portrait of Stephen Colbert. I'm not sure how or why I got to this point, but I'm here and I don't know how to erase the image from my mind. But in better news, I've decided that I'm going to drive a long way very soon. I've been itching to get out of here for quite some time. There's only so much stagnation that a man can take, but at least I know that I'll be traveling soon. I'm sure that this will become my traveling notebook for the journey that is estimated to take me and the mates to the northern reaches of our fair nation. Maybe I'll write this generation’s On the Road. But the only difference is that mine might be good, you know, because On the Road was a mediocre rambling of an avid marijuana user. I think they call it a beatnik.

I've gotta go. We’re rearranging the furniture.

With abated breath the multitudes waited. And now they breath a sigh of relief, as I have finally joined the masses in the splendors of blogging. I don't know who will read this, myself being the target audience, but to those who do stumble upon this mecca of convoluted thought I say welcome with the utmost sincerity. My thoughts are long winded, but my fingers are curt, and this combination will I'm sure lead to posts that make little to no sense.

But I digress...

I, too, sing America (right Langston?)