As I rise...

Hello and welcome to The Dead Chinchilla. I have finally joined the blogosphere, for which I intend to kick myself later.

If you were unaware, I do not have a job.

I am incapable, at least to date, of forcibly placing myself under people for money. Despite my beliefs about prostitution, that is how I feel. So, between a lack of initiative, easygoing parents, and a lack of initiative, I have no job this summer. Other than working for Valerie, once a week, at 10 bucks an hour, to file information on the computer. Oh, and the time she paid me 45 dollars to have women smell colognes on my arm for an hour. That was pretty sweet.

When I arrived at home, I had a messy room, a long-distance and nontraditional relationship (read: seeing other people), a clear complexion, a live chinchilla named Dove, no original music I was proud of, and a bunch of other stuff.

I now have a messy room, mild depression, a fucked up complexion, the ashes of a dead chinchilla named Dove, a couple of original songs (recordings and one gig under my belt, too), and a bunch of other stuff.

And now, a blog. More to come as I decide what I'm doing with this...