Earnest Evans’ Identity Has Been Compromised; and I Couldn’t be Happier to Hear That It Has Happened

So the other day my friend C was in a store and ran into an old friend M. M walked up to C and said, “C, I’ve received several emails from different people telling me I had to check out a webpage called ‘eebmore.’ eebmore couldn’t possibly be a friend of ours, could it?”

Mind you, I NEVER tell anybody about my silly little weblog project. C is the only friend with the exception of Moms and apparently a few relatives (Hi relatives!) that know anything about my geeky internet alter ego. As far as I know, nobody I know has ever even heard of a weblog. These are your typical normal Baltimore drunks, freaks and degenerates who happen to have internet access, and have somehow come across eebmore.com and feel that it is worthy of an email hyperlink to their friends.

Baltimore, my friends, is beginning to fall in love with me.

How was M able to identify me, you ask? Was it my razor like wit? No, she recognized my roommate Bruiser from that stupid MPEG on the left that I keep meaning to remove.

I feel it’s necessary to explain the relationship I have with my roommate. We’ve lived together for years now. My responsibilities in the relationship are to pay the rent, bring home food for us to eat, and to follow him around the apartment with a pair of scissors for 3 days after he has digested a 2 foot long piece of string. He is in charge of chewing on my guests’ toes, and freaking out female guests’ on those rare occasions when I’m able to coerce them up the elevator by sitting on the corner of the bed and staring at us with those vacant huge eyes that seem to be asking us “What are you two doing? Do you mind if I chew on your toes while you’re doing it?” He is also in charge of killing the mice. As stupid as my roommate is (even for his kind), I'm proud to say he excels at all of his responsibilities. He has spent the past week parked in the kitchen, staring at the hole behind the stove, and has transformed into a kill kill killing machine. Bruiser, you rock.

Anyway, back to how cool I am. Where was I? Oh yes, people all over the neighborhood are somehow discovering eebmore.com. I’m a tiny bit closer to achieving my goal with this weblog project. That goal, which I can assure you is NOT to become some sort of A-lister with huge readership; this is a specific, limited interest weblog and I understand that(if you've never lived in Baltimore, why the hell would you read this crap?). My actual goal is to have the 50 or so female art students living in my building (why can’t they be the ones propositioning me in the laundry room?) so dazzled by my colloquial writing, so amazed by my regional photography, and so impressed with my groundbreaking sense of design, that they throw a huge mass underwear clad pillow fight with me as the guest of honor.

Screw following my daily stats; from this day forward I plan to measure the success or failure of eebmore.com entirely in tail. Is that so unreasonable?