Context

Who am I? Why am I here? Is that blood? These are all question's I'm asking myself but I assume you have some questions too, and seeing as none of you have nuclear mind-reading machines (I'm wearing my tin foil hat just in case anyway), I guess it is my responsibility, nay, my duty, to tell you about myself and why you should be at all interested in this blog and its current ground-breaking single post.

Well if I may begin at the beginning, this is me:

Being me.

A Face-Off with Face/Off (a-ha-ha-ha, see what I did there? ...syntax)

So I had a short, highly erotic discussion with my good friend Rhona-

Pictured he- huh, can anyone find her?

-and she reminded me of my somewhat unhealthy obsession with a new fad that seems to have popped up in the public conscious over the past few years. A group of people take a load of pictures of other people running or jumping over things and then make them move on a large sheet of paper through the wonder of witchcraft and what I believe is the light you collect from a dying orphan's soul. I think the kids call them movies or something?

She said "Ben, you watch lots of these movie things, and I bet not a lot of people talk about them on the internet. Be the Moses to their respective non-Jewness." Suddenly a heavenly light shone through the windows of the house of our latest arson victim and I knew it was a sign that I had found my calling. I climbed upon the stolen ASDA trolley and donned my mantle as "Part-time Movie Reviewer"! 

The mantles only came in one size. I wear him like a hat.

A Glaring Lack of Exposition

Come one come all! Marvel at the splendour, the spectacle, of the greatest blog you have ever seen! Well, not the greatest. Maybe, like, second greatest after that blog of pictures of Tom Selleck eating a sandwich by a waterfall, but the general gist still stands; this blog is totally awesome.

"Oh, but it's not even got anything on it yet, you smug bastard," a certain few smarty-pantseses (es? whats the plural of that word?) will undoubtedly be saying. Well in the same way that Schrodinger didn't know if his cat had slowly learned karate by watching it on TV for fifteen years until he opened his poison-laced box, nor will your sorry little presumptuous arses know whether this blog will be any good until I string letters together to give those weird voices in my head a way to express themselves.

But I do digress, you should totally come back in...shall we say a day or two? I should have come up with something to say by then. It'll undoubtedly be a very original heartfelt post about an arbitrary aspect of my life or maybe a review of a film that's been reviewed a hundred times before but because I'm me I think someone will want to read it AND I JUST WANT TO BE NOTICED *sob*

...I should go lie down and think for a bit.

Hey, rum.

Change The Sheets Once You're Done

Don't read this post. It's like watching a video of your parents conceiving you.