Making It Rain. Wait, what does that mean exactly?

There was a time when I made a bunch of secret promises to the cyber-world like, "I'll never 'do' Facebook'" or "I will never do the 'blog' thing."

I'm proud to say that I currently have over 400 Facebook friends (and I know each and every one of them!) and I'm ashamed that I am proud to say it. 

So it is with some trepidation and some self-loathing that I post my very first blog.  This is it.  

As a kid I used to write in a journal.  In fact, I had several journals that I wrote in and I never "finished" one of them.  If that's the goal of journal-writing, then I failed.  Maybe I wasn't fucked up enough to fill the pages.  I wrote some [bad] poetry in one, I remember, and in the other I wrote about a friendship of mine that had self-destructed suddenly.   I wrote about sexual frustration, a lot. 

My issues with blogging stem from my shortcomings as a wannabe "journal-ist."  I couldn't hack it as a journal writing guy, and now, here I sit 15 years later writing in a (digital) journal.  

It's partly confusing to me because I never knew who I was writing to in my journal.  I understood, of course, that it was meant to be a sort of self-reflective exercise - maybe there was a supposed moment of catharsis that I missed.  In that part of my brain that secretly wished I was Inspector Gadget, or lived in the same cave as the Thunder Cats, I presumed that someone someday would find my journal, hail it as a new sacred text, and share my wisdom with the world.  I think that's partially why, whenever I continue to accidentally find my old journals I hesitate to throw them out.  They remain entombed under various old trophies and teddy bears in a box in my parents house at this very moment.   

So I'm confronted again with the same questions and problems - who the hell am I writing this to and for?

One of those questions is easy enough to answer.  I'm writing this for myself, as instructed to do so by my new advertising instructor at the Creative Circus.  It's a good thing to write, and I like to do it, so why not do it in Blog form?  

One of my biggest fears remains to this day to be that my brain will waste away and I, along with the rest of the world, will become more and more stupid.  Maybe the Blogosphere has helped to maintain some kind of intelligent life on the planet.   I think the world is already basically retarded, but anything to help, I suppose.

So who is going to read this?  Everyone, I'm sure.  Everyone that I invite.  Seems a bit narcissistic, no?  

And yet, maybe it's not a bad thing to have a swagger in this 'biz.  See, now that I have swagger, I can start shortening words and using "z"'s instead of "s"'s.   Now that I have a little 'tude, I can hit up the nearest strip club (uh, there's A LOT in Atlanta) and make it rain.  

And to think, all it took was a little bloggin'.