And so another blog begins...

... but a touch of ADD leads me to believe that like most of my projects, this may fizzle out so I do hope people enjoy it while it lasts. Over the years (it surprises me that it’s been years, oy) I've been asked to start a blog of sorts. Here are some of the top ten possible reasons I expect this has occurred:

10) People are incredibly bored and just need something more lightweight than a magazine.
9) There are people masochistic enough to hear me rant and rave on topics that are nearest and dearest to our hearts
8) There are those sadistic enough that wish for me to comment on anything and everything in order find more material for their own fiction.
7) My prose gives people a sense of security unattainable by other sources of internet journalism
6) I’m a bitch and some people like my blunt take on life as we know it
5) Five is a pretty number and I’m running out of bullshit David Letterman Style reasons
FOR) I can laugh at myself for not using grammar check before I make posts about mattress sales
3) As a hobby hoe I take a unique perspective on this industry and in a lot of cases can provide an unbiased opinion on highly debated topic … never said that I did but it’s possible
2) There aren’t enough blogs, message boards, or outlets to theory on the intricate and VERY complicated industry of male escorting on the net right now …

And the NUMBER one reason why I believe I’ve been asked to start a blog ...

1) GRATUITOUS NUDITY!

Well unfortunately kids I don’t foresee gratuitous nudity in the future of this blog but given my travel itinerary over the next month there is a strong possibility there will be scantily clad photos in several delightful settings in Europe.

So to begin … we will address the issue of Admiral’s Clubs at the LAX terminal. Why open at 5:15 am? Why not 5 AM? Is it just more amusing to them to see people gathering outside? Hell … why not keep it open 24 hours. How hard can it be to keep a supply of stale coffee and muffins packed with preservatives available?

Regardless, a car picked me up at home at 4:35 am, an ungodly hour that I haven’t seen since my days working at Starbucks when I had to be at work at that time, and placed me in the predicament of waiting outside the doors of this delightful little lounge. Like a Mervyn’s commercial gone horribly wrong, potential patrons hovered outside the automatic doors chanting “open, open, open” under their breath almost willing the doors to part.

And then (but only after a cute attendant dragged an apparently heavy plant to the front) the doors opened and we were saved. Saved by wretchedly thin coffee and sticky muffins. First St. Louis, then the WORLD! Is it Paris yet?