You’re here because you’re avoiding what you’re supposed to be doing. You’re here to be entertained or to occupy yourself with something that’s not your responsibilities. You have goals, but you’re afraid to try because you’re afraid to fail. You’re here because it’s easy. Easier, at least, than the real world. You’re here because you don’t know what else to do.
Wait, sorry. Change “you” to “I”.
Hi, and welcome to my blog. There are many others like it, but this one is mine. That’s one of those sayings that I’ve heard it before, but I don’t know where it’s from. Turns out it’s the Rifleman’s Creed of the United States Marine Corps. Whoops.
I could take it out, but where’s the vulnerability in that? I know a blog’s not a rifle, and that I am not a marine, but I’m not going to delete it because I want this to be an authentic experience. I want you to read something here and really feel like you’re getting to know me rather than the guy my editor (also me) has presented you with. Granted, I rewrote that last sentence about seven times — to little avail — but I’m also not going to throw you to the wolves of my raw subconscious. That would be cruel and unusual and mostly yelling.
Why you’re here, I can’t say. Maybe you hate your job. Or your family. Or how about you’re a stay-at-home dad and really nothing’s going your way? I don’t know. I don’t know why you’re here. If you’ve been surfing the Internet for over twenty minutes, I doubt you do either.
All I can tell you is that this place, this blog, this site, this speck in a server farm, holds a collection of essays and short stories which all star me. I know you don’t know me, and therefore do not care about me — who am I kidding, the only people reading this are me — so I’ve tried to focus on topics of (some) objective interest. There’s some stuff about comedy and some stuff about acne. Probably I’ll stick with the former… Plus, I just got back from a month of traipsing around Europe, so I’ll be sure to throw those experiences to the mill of public opinion as well. I’ll talk about my childhood and maybe even you’re childhood if you know me. I might ask for your permission, or it might be the end of old Zach and You. Alas.
As you might have guessed, I don’t really know what the hell I’m doing, so this homepage will now end. Abruptly.