Perhaps I had better start at the beginning...

Hello, and good day to you. If you've stumbled across this blog, my most sincere apologies. If you so choose to remain and view the content, well that's your own fault and I accept no responsibility for any mental defects that may manifest themselves. Moving on...

First off, let me explain that I am not a blogger per se. I don't consider myself an especially good writer, nor do I have a firm grasp of the English language. I don't really know what nouns, verbs, and adjectives are, and I definitely don't know the proper way of arranging them to form a sentence. I sort of know how a sentence is supposed to sound, I know how to use punctuation and I'm quite capable of grouping several related sentences into paragraphs while simultaneously avoiding run-ons. I'm also an impeccable speller. Yeah... I'm pretty hot shit around the forums.

I write this not in the expectation that people will read it, but so that I might have a means of keeping a record of the happenings in my life. Yeah, like a diary. Shutup. Enter Backstory:

28 years ago my Mother, God rest her soul, spent an inordinate amount of time (read: 36-ish hours) in labor with something that would eventually grow up to resemble Leonardo DiCaprios retarded doppelganger, minus the smugness. Yeah, i heard that alot when I was a somewhat handsome young teenager. Now? Well, now it's just unfortunate. I struggle daily to avoid falling into a shape that some might call "rotund", and the fear of losing my hair is ever-present. I'm sure Leo has a few people he pays to worry about these things for him. I consider him a prick.

I spent my formative years being awkward, misunderstood and misguided. I struggled to be accepted, and never quite grasped the fine art of talking to girls. This is something I still strive to be mediocre at, with moderate success. I did a lot of things I'm not proud of, hung out with the wrong crowds, ingested or inhaled the wrong things, fought, betrayed friends and probably blasphemed more than a few times. Yes, there are regrets. I hurt people, disappointed my family and let myself down. Without going into too much detail, all these experiences helped to mold a confused young man into a confused older man who only strives to live a comfortable, magnanimous life. Yeah, I know none of this is funny. I'm getting there... geez.

Fast forward to present day. I've been in the Air Force for about 8 years now, and it's looking like it's going to be a career. I have an adorable 2 year old baby boy named Dillon, who is my life. I've been married, and as a result of my poor decision making skills I'm subsequently working on my first divorce. Yeah I said first... I'm hoping the next marriage will be the last, but you never know in this world. Life is unpredictable, and misfortune seems to be ubiquitous in mine. This is a story for another post though.

My adult life hasn't been all bad though. Quite the opposite, in fact. With the exception of a few brief scatterings and the last year, it's been pretty enjoyable. Yeah, I've lived in some rathole apartments, worried about where I was going to get my next meal and wondered where I'd get the money to turn the power back on. But I figured out that I can persevere through damn near anything, and I'll always land on my feet. I can honestly say that joining the Air Force is one of the best decisions I've ever made, second to having my son. I've been to alot of great places that I otherwise would have never seen, including Ireland, Scotland, Crete, Germany, Crete and some assorted middle eastern countries. I keep it hidden, but I'm actually pretty proud to be in the Air Force. Yadda Yadda Yadda.

So, that's me in a nutshell. You're now a little bit dumber for having read this.