There's Only One Man Who Would Dare Give Me The Rasberry.

In case you weren't already aware of the bit of a cuss in my blog's title, it's there for a very legitimate reason. Although, I guess some would argue that there's never legitimacy to swearing, but well, I'm not part of that group. Anyway, like the title of this post, it's a reference to one of the favorite films of my youth, Mel Brooks' Spaceballs. I'm not going to summarize/ruin the scenes in the movie for you, so all I will say is that the blog's title comes from the 'combing' of the desert scene. Just do yourself a favor and see the movie if you haven't already done so.

Oh hell, at least watch the scene so you know where I'm coming from:

Spaceballs. Comb The Desert! Scene



I started up this blog as a course requirement for my new fiction class, which I guess I can't really complain about all that much. I just see blogging as glorified diary-keeping, except I guess the whole point of a diary is to keep a personal, private record of your innermost thoughts and feelings, whereas this is pretty much a public display of what you wish to say. I'm not entirely sure what I even want to say, primarily because I can't say for certain that anyone will ever read this other than myself and my professor.

At this point in time, I'm thinking I'll basically either update this when I'm feeling a desire to do so or if it's a class requirement, but until then I can't really say for certain how much of my soul I plan on broadcasting to the world on here. Especially if the only one bothering to listen is me.

Oh, do yourself a favor and see Inglourious Basterds.

And if you're a fan of Blitzen Trapper and/or The Notorious B.I.G. check out this nasty mash-up I just recently came across:

Blitzen Trapper Vs. Notorious B.I.G. - Black River Struggle


That's it for now.
And watch out for swine flu.

-Po