I am the proud(?) owner of a blog.

This feels like a really important step in my life, for some reason. I can't imagine why. It's only a bunch of words that I'm sending out all over the Internet. People who I've never met aren't able to read this or anything.

I've never written a blog before, but I've read books about it, which gives me all the information I need to know. They all started out with describing themselves, but I don't really feel like doing that. I think there's a little box in the corner I can put important information in. You can all read that when I get around to putting stuff in it. Until then, hang on my every word hoping for some oh-so-exciting details about my personal life.

I decided to call this blog Pseudocurses because I forking can. It's a free country, et cetera. There were two major things, other than my freedom of speech and so on, that factored into this decision.  A. I'm one of those people who can be heard saying "Heck!" as a curse. Yup, we exist. We're not just like ghosts, fairy tales you weren't sure were real. I don't swear. Much. I prefer saying, you know, "forking heck." B. All the other names I liked were taken. Also, "pseudo" is an awesome word.

I don't care if that's three reasons. This is my blog. I can do what I want. Right now, what I want to do is finish writing this post and get the cat off the table again. Poor kitty. Even though she, too, lives in a country of freedom, the tyrannical reign of certain people in this household keeps her on the floor. How will she ever grow into an empowered cat if we're taking away her natural rights? I should hold a peaceful demonstration in front of the refrigerator.

Maybe I should talk about my life on this blog. What a novel idea. Today, I plan to go shopping. I love shopping almost as much as I love bowling and curling irons. In my opinion, they are like methane gas slowly filling my lungs. However, this shopping excursion might be fun. Fun. While shopping. Can you imagine? I need to buy a dress shirt so I can pretend to be on the boys basketball team at my fine learning establishment. They all wear fancy clothes on game days. Apparently, this helps them bond as a team. I'm not exactly sure how that works. Team bonding or no team bonding, I have wanted to pretend to be on the team ever since Spiffy told me I couldn't sneak onto the bus because I'm not on the team. My comrades will be pleasantly surprised when I show up dressed like them.

Well, I'm glad that's over. Don't expect too many fireworks here. I'll blog once a month, if you're lucky. If you're not lucky, I'll leave this to rot and die on the Internet. And we wouldn't want that to happen, would we? (That was a rhetorical question, by the way.)