This is it.

All right, this is it. The first times that I press my fingers to the keyboard to create a blog. Yeah, I know, I'm excited too.

I'm not sure what I'm doing here, on this website writing a blog. I was one YouTube watching videos and one link lead to another and I started reading someone's blog, not but three minutes ago, and now I'm writing one too. I don't know how most blogs start. I don't know what most people talk about in blogs. I don't know much about anything about blogs, and I definitely don't know how to spell. Thank god for spell check. This post is already riddled with red dotted lines.

Since I don't know how to blog, I’ll write about something I do know about. Myself.

I'm a person. You may think this is obvious but you would really never know without me telling you. I could tell you anything about myself and you would have no evidence to disprove it. That’s what I love and hate about the Internet. Why do I hate this about the Internet? Because some people become assholes when they know no one knows who they are. I'm sure you've seen it at the bottom of YouTube videos. "UR A FAG BITCH-HOLE." Most people wouldn't say that to someone's face in real life, especially because most of those are twelve and less than a hundred pounds. And it really pisses me off when people are such, well, bitch-holes, just because they have the Internet shield to protect them. But, back on subject... Yeah, I'm not a blogging cat or anything. I’m a person.

On second though, a blogging cat would get a lot more readers.

Maybe I am a cat.

I'm also a man. Or I guess I shouldn't say man. I'm a young man.

I'm a teenager, complete with braces and angst and all of it. I go to high school and I learn stuff all day. When I get home I blow off my homework and watch YouTube and Google things for the rest of the night. Your typical teenager. In fact, I'm only writing this blog because I have an Algebra II test tomorrow and I'm procrastinating so I don't have to review my worksheets. I say review because there is seriously no way to study for math. All you can do is 'review' your worksheets, which entails staring blankly at a page full of number tightly squeezed in the margins. Its not like I would study anyways. Like I said, I'm a teenager.

I like writing but I hate having to write. That goes likewise with running.

I'm running out of things to say about myself. It's harder than you think to describe yourself. You try.

Okay, so the following will just be a ton of random facts about me that you wouldn't really care about but I’m going to tell you anyway and because I’m taking the time to tell you, you have to read them.

Inside my head is a British voice that narrates my life. Don't ask.

I hate saying the word three so I often try to avoid saying it at all costs.

"So, Patrick," my names Patrick, by the way. "How long have you been waiting here?"

"Not long, just the square of nine minutes. Oh, by the way, I hit the number of musketeers amount of dead raccoons road driving up here. I know, interstate seventy-the-number-of-times-you-have-to-say-Beetlejuice is crawling with them." I'm sorry, that went on too long. Moving on...

I like the stale marshmallows in lucky charms and in those instant hot chocolates packets better then normal ones-- don't judge me.

I have a weird obsession with dead baby jokes. And don’t be all 'DEAD BABY JOKES ARE COMPLETELY OVER THE LINE" because you know they're hilarious too.

I have a fear that my fish will jump put of his bowl and die.

I distinctly remember the meanest thing anyone has ever said to me. It was a year or so ago and my sister just randomly said, "You know what, I think you would be in Huffelpuff." What a bitch.

Speaking of Harry Potter, on my eleventh birthday I waited all day and was really disappointed when my Hogwarts letter never came.

When I have to memorize vocab words for German I always assign each letter in the word to a word to make a sentence out of the word so I remember how to spell it. Yeah, I know I didn’t explain that very well but that’s why I will show you an example.

Bahnhof is something in German. I don't remember, I think maybe train or something. And in my head, banhnhof is... But A Hen Never Has One Freckle. Get it now? You’re smart; you probably got it without my example. Anyway, for some reason, the letter H is always Hen.

Here's a little treat for you for sticking around. Pizza in German is Pizza. Consequently, it’s also the only food I know how to say in German.

Wow, you really are a trooper. You read it all. I'm quite proud of you, because I would never have read it. But since you did, I think you’re pretty cool and you’re the only person I’m going to say bye to.

BYE!

(That was only for you. If anyone else read it then please unread it. Thanks)