So...This Is New.

So I'm sitting here in my dining room floor staring at my desktop, and I think, "I'm pretty bored right here." And so then I start thinking, "Hey, I should do something so I'm not bored. But what?"

Well, obviously, going outside isn't gonna happen. It's literally a dark and stormy night right now...and besides, I live in the most stereotypic, row house, macadam drive, Casper white suburbs in the whole United States of America. And then there's the fact that I'm pretty comfortable here on this carpet, so getting up and doing something productive is also out. That leaves the Internet. And sure enough, the Internet doth provided me with this website. So now I've got this blog.

The only question left is what the hell I'm gonna do with it.

I guess a bit of bio would be nice for the three people that might accidently stumble across this. So here goes: I'm sixteen, I'm a guy, I'm currently in the fetal stages of a relationship with a girl at school whose father may or may not try to hang me from a tree when he finds out I'm dating his daughter, and I'm a writer. A big-time writer. As in, when you see me talking to myself in the middle of an empty room, that's because I'm muttering dialogue under my breath. Funny how often that gets misinterpreted.

Right now, my big project is a fan fiction about...you know what, this needs backstory. So when I was a little kid (like, three or four years old), I loved "The Lion King." Actually, I pretty much worshiped "The Lion King." I watched it every hour of every day for about a year; I had no clue what was going on, but I assume the bright flashy colors and infectious songs were too much for my nutso little brain to resist. Moving on.

So after a while, I finally began to understand that, behind all the dance numbers and African choirs, there was actually a PLOT to the movie. And that that PLOT could be best summed up by, as I so eloquently put it at the horrible moment of realization, "SIMBA'S DADDY DIED!"

Yeah. That didn't go well.

So skip ahead about a decade and a half, where I'm finally watching the movie again because my little brother had never seen it. Naturally, that old addiction came back in almost full force, and when a month of borderline obsession, a laptop with a word processor, and a hearty dose of sleep deprivation, my brain spit out "The Pridelanders": a vast, epic, and currently about 160,000-thousand-word-long fan fiction that allows me to stave off my psychosis by laying out the plot of the original movie and taking a few dozen pipe bombs and a sledgehammer to it. If you're interested in reading it (I don't know...maybe this doesn't seem completely insane to some of you), it's on FanFiction.net, where I have a profile under the same name as this blog (http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5144804/1/The_Pridelanders). The earlier chapters, to put it bluntly, suck. But I think it gets better later on. At the very least, I've gotten a lot of positive reviews on it, which, as any experienced fan fiction writer can tell you, doesn't really mean shit. Meh. It's good for an ego boost. Like I need that.

I'm guessing most of you have stopped reading this by now, so I'll go ahead and end this post here. I'll probably make another one soon, though.

This Google-sponsored rambling thing is fun.