"I've a feeling we're not in Kansas any more."- Dorthy 45 seconds after Kansas.

You know those times when you look around you and you think to yourself, "Wow. only 3 hours ago, I would have never known I would be where I am right now." And it's not always a bad thing. In fact, for me it's almost always a good thing. Because when you find yourself with a person you only met that day in an abandoned parking-lot under the tier of some old building trying to escape the late night rain, or when your on the squashed, old, moth-ball smelling couch of some random old persons Victorian home awaiting chocolates, its always an intense reminder that life is wonderfully unpredictable. And there is no way for us to look forward, even a mere fraction of a millisecond, to predict anything.

You are literally forced to be surprised.

Made to ride the universes most insane roller-coaster... oh... the humanity.

Wasting hours.

So I'm here in the same spot I left you. Next day, same seat, all alone, couch, dog snoring... It's a beautiful day, and I had a bouncy, fluttering blond woman remind me that this morning, when John came in with his girlfriend to grab somethings before they skipped off to enjoy it. And she just couldn't believe me and Ben were still sitting around the house not seizing the hour up from the tray she was so quick to pick at. Well if your with your boyfriend, headed off to an edgy restaurant, and know half the people in town--- mmm, that might be a good idea. But what is someone who doesn't know ANYONE supposed to do about it? Go walk down the street and look good for the movie camera in the spotted side walk light? No. This isn't Mayberry. I could go spend my day giving a whirl at being a pick-up artist? Being shoved off would certainly give me something more to think about then guessing which side of the glass rim in front of me the fly is going to land on next. I've never seen Central Park? Theres an idea! I could go to Central Park and... yeah, see? And what? Feed pigeons and enjoy the air as I hobble around with a cane? I'm only 19! Kids my age are meeting people and socializing. Old people don't need to because they've fulfilled their needed amount of interactions with fellow humans. Their done. Had a spouse, kids... colleagues. Have you noticed that the KIDS who don't get enough "hangout time" in, eventually pull a gun on their university? Well that ain't gunna be me! I'm going to Central Park to kidnap an acquaintance. Yeah you heard me. Put a oat-meal cream pie on top of a net covered in leaves, and the second they go for the num-num... BAM! Up in a net! And THAT was how you met Zulu.

Zulu

I am not going to begin this with the story of my life. Because this blog will become just that. The story of my life. If I told you it all in the first post then This blog would be like every other persons online life-log. And that, though in some cases is slightly interesting and for those with a family, certainly cute, is for the most part benign. What a person is doing as they go through life is important, only for the fact though, that they have a past to back it up. Is the Grinch very important unless we know how at one time he STOLE Christmas? Would you think twice about eating a slice of ham if you knew it was actually Wilbur? Would Elvis Presley stand up to the bad boys of the now if we didn't know what society was like in 1955? Is a king simply great, without us knowing the humble beginnings of a boy stumbling through the forest and venturing upon a wizards cottage?  Does Americas spirit remain free without us knowing about the brave men and woman who looked a whole world in the face and said "Make my day"? A LOT of people where whipped, beaten, and made to carry the cross they would be nailed on back when the Romans ruled over the Jews 2000 some years ago. So would the story of Jesus Christ mean very much to us if we didn't know anything about the life he led before crucifixion? Well the answer is of course not. And I hope that maybe you will get to know me better through reading about the experiences I'm sure to go through after this first blog post. And by mixing the past as a reference to the present hopefully the effect will be more invigorating and cause for much more, overall, intriguing reading.
   Well I hoped you enjoyed this first post (if you ever actually finished reading this far). I hope you enjoyed how serious, mild, and intelligent it was. Because that won't happen in a blog written by me much. Me? You can call Zulu. And the story begins here, on a warm October night in Brooklyn, New York. Sitting in a small grubby apartment, dog stretched and snoring on the couch beside me, live rock music blasting right next door in a club, 1:20 A.M...... No job. No Money. No place of my own. Always Hungry. No friends... A small store down the street sells a bully oatmeal-cream pie for only 50cents. Perfectly Happy with my life.