First Post is First

They call me KD. “KD the Ghostwriter” if you want to be formal but just KD will be fine. That in itself is a pretty good nickname. Not to mention the only thing I got from my dad worth keeping. But that’s for another time. Let’s start from the most logical place I can think of. High school graduation was the first day of the rest of my life, for various reasons. First off, senior year sucked every obscene thing I can think of. Getting out of that town and going to college couldn’t have happened fast enough, because every day I spent there felt like I was trapped. Trapped on the back roads with no hope of getting back to the highway to avoid being gang-raped by degenerate, inbred mutants who feed on flesh. I can only assume those exist in the meth capital of the world.

So, I went to college in South East Missouri (the epicenter of the meth capital of the world). The problems I sought to leave behind found their way down to my campus, but still it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle. Life was good, the town was great and the adventures were better. And boy, did I have them. And then a frantic call from mother. The same conversation we had before I left, regarding money. After all the work, the applications, the Pell Grants, the scholarships, the tax work, I am still in the hole x thousand dollars. This proved to be the tipping point for me. I slowly devolved into a living entity of assholery. Instead of dropping out of school like any normal, decent person, I shamelessly took advantage of the free room, food, TV and Internet without going to any classes the remainder of the year. Then I went to live with my grandparents and didn’t speak to my mom for 6 months and didn’t step foot in her house for longer than that which inadvertently tangled everyone else up into our antagonism, which proved to be nothing more than decades of unresolved problems and dramatic tension coming to a head in the form of me. Don’t you wish you were KD, too?

And that brings us here. People have different ways of dealing with pain and adversity. Some people hand out fellatio at funerals. Others smoke weed while talking to their dog. Mine is writing. But the aforementioned conglomerate of events was so debilitating that somewhere along the way, I completely forgot how to do it. So I tried several other outlets: drowning myself in junk food and porn; getting a bullshit job pushing boxes all day; and driving back to my original town of residence to visit with the handful of people I would bother to speak to. Issac, who also finds himself sitting around until he can go to school somewhere, suggested that we write together. It was that moment that our little duo was born, but it wasn’t until today that I was able to sit down and turn it into something tangible. Thus, the blog was born.

What you can expect:
Short stories (if we remember); news analysis (most of the time); random thoughts and words of wisdom (from us and others); shameless plugging/spamming for the book I’m writing (stay tuned) and anything else we can think of. If you’re reading this, congratulations. Prepare to be info-tained for many days to come.

Regards,

KD the Ghostwriter