… Evening Son, where ramblings, reflections, recollections and generally unfounded rants come together to create something worth reading. Glad you could make it.
As you scroll about the place, you may notice it seems a lot like a blog. Good. Hopefully you do. It is a blog here, and no one responsible for its production is trying to hide that because – quite honestly – no one responsible for its production knows the first thing about making a website. WordPress just happens to offer a blog publishing service, which doubles as a webpage maker for people who don’t know how to make webpages.
Not that it matters much.
Because the guts of Evening Son is precisely what it has to say. The words, pictures (which are sure to violate copyright laws along the way, as no one at Evening Son has any intention of doing more than showing from where they were heisted) and videos (see parenthesis after the word “pictures” in this sentence) are the point. Sure, it’d be nice to archive entries by category rather than date. It’d also be nice to add eye-catching clipart and text format. But this is beyond the realm of knowledge of anyone at Evening Son.
Which brings up another thing: only one person writes for Evening Son. That person is me, so at this point I’ll stop acting like there’s an office of writers, editors and interns putting this out. Not that you thought that anyway. I’ll also now make it blatantly clear I’m writing in first-person. Hi. My name is Justin. I want you to enjoy Evening Son.
Here’s a description of what I have planned:
Ramblings. I get things in my head. I observe things constantly, critique them and relate them to something else. Most of the time, they bring about a rambling shared not with my voice (I don’t have that many friends; those I have are sick of hearing my ramblings), but my two index fingers pounding loudly on a computer keyboard. It’s worse after I’ve had a bottle of beer or six-pack of wine. Also, I sometimes switch things around for the mere Hell of it, just to see if anyone’s paying attention. Anyway, the ramblings tend to focus on individuals and ideology, and sound rather hurtful. I do this intentionally.
Reflections. In the spirit of variety and because ramblings tend to ramble, Evening Son will also offer reflections. Consider these the complete opposite of ramblings. I live with my daughter, who started kindergarten in the fall of 2010. It’s just her and me. Sure, it’s been difficult at times (I am reminded everyday how little I know about girls her age), but it’s also been – I am unapologetic about the cliché I’m about to use – magical. Most of these reflections revolve around her, although they certainly aren’t limited to the topic. I’m also a son, employee, friend, former friend, several-time ex-boyfriend and hence therefore, so they could address other roles. Reflections generally reflect my most serious side.
Recollections. These will probably be a lot like reflections. In fact, the only reason I added this category in the subhead of Evening Son is because it sounded good and started with an R. While it’s possible, however, I’ll share a memory or two along the way, I promise to limit these to crap you oughta care about.
Rants. Bound to be my favorite category. As advertised, these will rarely be sourced. Most of the rants you’ll read will not contain a kid’s menu-style maze leading to where I got my information because a.) that’s distracting, b.) most of the time I don’t remember where I heard it, and c.) I just don’t care if you believe it or not. Most rants will be political or ideology-related (spoiler alert: I’d be a libertarian if I thought it could work), but I have a tendency to write long rants that look like ramblings about the Buffalo Bills. I hate those bastards.
That said, here’s a way to contact me: firstname.lastname@example.org. Please give me some feedback, idea and submissions to be considered for publication. Comments – with the exception of spam that doesn’t advertise ways to grow a penis to 18 inches, which is just amazing – will not be moderated.