So I'm blogging. Why? What year is it, 2008? I have a few reasons.
There's always self-expression, of course. In making my new podcast, I have quickly learned that I have a lot to say, nay, too much to say, but that listening to me say it while waiting for my promised guest probably violates the Geneva Conventions. So, I thought, perhaps a blog would allow for more of an opt-in ticket to my brain overflow.
I have also been wanting to write more, and I suppose this makes for a sort of practice, although without any sort of editorial oversight I may very well be a guy in the corner of the gym curling 1 pound weights for 6 minutes a day wondering why I'm not making any progress. But doing something is always better than doing nothing.
Then, of course, there's the fact that I built a website, and it had a button to add a blog. "Gee," I thought, as I mortared another brick to Cask of Amontillado myself, "Wouldn't it be nice to tackle another medium?"
And, finally, distraction. I am trying to distract myself. From fast Sunday, from an unfinished Mario meme, from a parody video I have been editing, from an actually important collage I should have done a month ago. I think in some sense, my jack-of-all-trades approach to tackling new mediums and methods of creation is just a form of running away, moving to new towns to start new families to escape the families I started.
So, now that I have explained myself, do I have anything to say? Any Content™ to share? Hell no, dude. I'm just doing this for me. But in public, because I guess a personal journal wasn't enough. The medium is the message? I don't know. But I feel better for putting something out in the world.
 Ahem, it's called Special Day Morning, and I am allowed to plug it. This is my own damn mini-empire, a fascist state of one, and I will run it with a cross-promoting iron fist!
 Yes, that includes copious footnotes.
 In my head I can write pretty well, if I do say so myself. But once I open my mouth or hit the keyboard, I seem to jumble it all up. I am self-diagnosed with Krang Syndrome, wherein one spends a decade thinking a lot, thereby strengthening the inner brain, but socializing very little, therefore atrophying the outward means of communication .
 Except, I suppose, that Krang's body is strong, and I cannot currently say the same for my own. And Krang can also communicate just fine. Listen, it's not a great metaphor. I just wanted to talk about Krang, I guess.
 It's the Drake & Josh intro, but Laman & Lemuel, and it's going to be great, once I finish key-framing all of the heckin' arrows. This is the kind of sneak-peek content you will get for reading my blog.
 Like, the Johnny Appleseed of dads, man.