So I bit the bullitt...

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FIRST BLOG!

Don't let my incorrect spelling fool you, this is serious. What with facebook being what it is, and wanting desperately to share my story with my 400 plus, close, personal friends, I have to say that I think it's more effective to do it this way than to write 400 emails to all of the acquaintances I knew in 3rd grade that somehow remembered me and friended me last week. Yes, in this day and age, "friended" is a verb, which makes more sense than the old "befriended" since to befriend someone you actually must, uhh... *be* *friends* with them... I like friended 'cuz it refers to the physical act of adding someone as a friend, not to friendship. Now, all we need is Coke and McDonald's to team up and copyright "friended" and tell me that the key to happiness is to be the most "friended" person out there ir-irregardless of whether or not I come into contact with any actual friends. The system works!, the boy exclaimed as he sat some thousands of miles away from those that knew him well, while his facebook box practically burst at the seams with invitations for the elementary school piano recitals and punch and pies strewn throughout the oklahoma's and nether-stankholes of the US of A.

So, what's the perfect formula for a blog, what with me being a rookie here... Elitism? Political satire? An eerie glimpse into my personal life? These are all possibilities, but the main point is a few pictures, a few anecdotes, that god-willing will be destroyed in the next y2k equivalent bug.

My location effectively on the radar, I shall explain this:

I sit here, in the heart of Eindhoven, the Netherlands, in my 5th floor appartment frantically worrying about how to control the bass frequencies in the makeshift studio/recording room I am making out of my spare bedroom. Did I say, "spare bedroom?" Yes, that's very of me, and that's dutch lesson #1. Burgelijk. As in, the quaint life I lead here, as I perambulate towards my dream of being an artist on a record label.

Stay tuned, for retro blogs, future blogs, and tales of interest. You are a special friend to me, and I don't know what I'd do without you. I'll never forget that time you bailed me out of that brothel that I was led to believe was a ping-pong tournament. I'll buy you a beer as a token of my thanks...

Luv,
Ross

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