One Night At McCool's
Instead of spamming other folks' threads with my nonsensical quips I'm going to post my shit here (can I say "shit"? I mean this IS my blog-journal-thingy, so ... yeah... I'm going to say "shit". Shit shit shit shit).
Is there a point to this blog/journal/thingy?
Yes. I am awesome. Also I like to hear myself talk...er .. write. I like to hear myself write.
Do I have a goal?
Besides world domination which will never happen because I hate large crowds, not really. I'm the face of my company, so "being the best me I can be is all I need" (feel free to use that slogan in your daily life. Tattooing it onto yourself is highly encouraged.)
Who AM I?
I'm Nic McCool. Father of one. Husband of... one.
Why am I HERE?
You mean MDA? Or, like, the whole "meaning of life" question? Both have the same answer, I guess. Where else would I be?
What will this blog/journal/thingy encapsulate?
I don't think you used the word "encapsulate" correctly, Nic. I don't know, dude. I'll post workouts I guess. Or observations. Or lists of my favorite foods: 1.) Meat. 2.) Leftovers of 1.
Will anyone read this?
I will, and I'm someone, dude.
Anything else to add?
I once bit the neck off a bottle of beer by accident. BY ACCIDENT is the key part. Who accidentally BITES the neck of a glass bottle?! The remaining 30 minutes of church were very awkward that day.