Blogging is not gay

They say that a journey of a thousand miles begins with just one step. I say that the beginning of my quest to have more followers of my blog than Caden T. Rhoton begins with just a single key stroke. Even since I reached the age of accountability I have been able to understand the importance of making Caden look less cool then me. It started in 4th grade. 4th grade was awesome, best three years of my life. I remember walking into Mr. Willmoore's class on the first day of school in my smokin' hot red gap sweatshirt and surveying my classmates. I was pleased to say that just like the 1st, and 3rd grades I was the best looking adolescent in the class (screw you Brenden Smith).




As soon as the girls calmed down I took my favorite usual seat, right next to the window, so I could visualize what poor soul was about to get posterized next recess by my sick Howard Eisley cross-over.


However, just as I was picturing myself throwing down a Bryon Russel windmill jam on Spencer Snyder I was suddenly interrupted by a strange feeling rushing over me: I could no longer feel the eyes of every babe in the classroom on me. I looked up quizzically to see if someone had died or if a terrorist had attacked or something. But what I saw was much worse: 5 "3" with flowing brown hair and a pearly white smile with just a hint of a Canadian accent. Caden Rhoton had walked in the room..... To be continued....