An introduction of sorts

My name is, well, I can't tell you. Let's just assume that I did. Great.

I love buttered popcorn. I want butter to be dripping from every kernel I take from the pile. I want it greasy, yellow-orange, and warm. It tastes like the food of the gods. And no, not that ambrosia stuff from the South. Gosh.

My favorite brand is Pop Secret. Pop Secret is to gold as Orville Redenbacher is to a rock painted yellow. ACT II popcorn is a mere cardboard cutout compared to Pop Secret. And don't even get me started on the Boy Scouts.

I was not a boy scout when I grew up. I always wondered what they did, how they signed up. It seemed like some sort of military group. Being a male in elementary school, I thought that was fully awesome. Later I learned it's really just meetings and activities and camping trips. Not that there's anything wrong with meetings, activities or camping trips!

That line, "Not that there's anything wrong with that!", came from an episode of Seinfeld. Seinfeld is one of my favorite shows. That line was said after Jerry was asked if he was gay and he quickly answered no, pause, and then that line. Classic. The show about nothing is, in my eyes, the best show ever made.

I love the woods. Trees make me feel comfortable. When I go out west and I can see for miles and miles because of the mountains, I get irritated. Forests mean that every corner, every turn, reveals a new place, a new sight. You don't know where anything is and you're forced to explore. Mountains are less adventurous. You can see your destination before you even get in the car.

Who wants that? Not me.

So that's just a few tidbits and incoherent rambling for you to read.