Aren't they freakin' cute?!
So when I put out the plea to get people writing guest spots in my blog, I was totally excited that someone let me blackmail them so easily! Here's what Ryan has to say:
Greetings. This is not Laura, as you have just now discovered. My name is Ryan, and at Laura’s request, I am guest-writing a blog for her. When she first asked me to do this, I thought it a strange thing to suggest. It always struck me that your blog is your blog. Even so, as foreign an idea as it was to guest-write a blog, I figured, why the hell not? I don’t really have anything else going on, other than occasionally writing my own blog, and SHAMELESS PLUG APPROACHING RAPIDLY ryansomethingsomething.blogspot.com could always use some new readers. So this perhaps could be an opportunity to reach a new audience aside from my friends and my mom.
The only question left then was, what should I write about in this guest spot? My usual fare is a series of rants pertaining to politics and current events, usually with some sort of philosophical bent to them, adhering in some fashion to my ideas about moral relativism and absurdist thought. I have a great love of words and humor and baseball, and a severe dislike of religion, stupidity, and Nickelback. So what does that do for me here? I suppose I could write a bizarre manifesto about a perspicacious pitcher who slings both satire and spitballs in the direction of anyone who chooses to worship either the Church or the Chad (Kroeger, that is). But such a manifesto could be quite lengthy, and probably virtually unreadable.
Instead, picture this: a young man sits in a darkened room. Only his computer monitor provides light, which illuminates the sweat on his brow as he types furiously. The room is not only dark, but dank, and it smells suspiciously of Royal Crown Cola. The young man is dressed as though somebody threw a Dungeons & Dragons board at him and it stuck. This is a young man who has had only one girlfriend in his entire life, and that relationship lasted for only thirteen nonconsecutive days. As we are invisible in this room, we can approach the young man and his computer without being noticed. We draw closer, and the scent of the cola is suddenly eclipsed by overpowering foot odor. Just prior to losing consciousness, we catch a glimpse of the image on the computer screen, what appears to be a group of people dressed as animals…
Fortunately, this is not my story. That is to say, it is not the story of my life. Though it does smell a bit like Royal Crown Cola in here.
* I'm pretty sure he never met Robert, so I'm surprised by the accuracy of this description.