Get in on the John

Ah. And now I have returned to regale you once again of my exploits in fighting off an entire rebel army using just a plastic dolphin and a spork. Or maybe I'll just tell you what I had for breakfast. ( A much more terrifying and exciting tale, I assure you. ) Well you see, as I was called last night at 2 AM by my brain surgeon pal Alex Rehn, and as I, being short of those gray cells myself, decided to write a frikin' blog post after I was finished chatting for about an hour ( That's dedication ladies and gentlemen, nothing but the finest and latest breaking stories about the John [ myself not the toilet ], something we promise you will find nowhere else. ) so I ended up getting to sleep at around 4 AM here, and as a result I slept in until noon, unable as I am to part with my mortal need for sleep. As a direct consequence the meal that I ate soon after waking, while it was my first meal of the day,  cannot be considered as breakfast, but since we are on the subject,  the meal consisted of cereal and milk no matter if it was or was not indeed breakfast.
I am sure that that bit of information has made it so that many of you can sleep peacefully now that you finally know what the John [ again referring to myself and not the loo as our British friends might call it ], used to sustain himself for the long hard journey that that day would take him on. Well put your fears aside good friends, I assure you that I am nourished, if not really well nourished. ( I ate a package full of gummy bears, a brownie, and some cheese balls for dinner. GO SWEET SNACK FOODS OF LIFE!! )

Hey, does anyone know exactly what the purpose of a blog is? I mean, I have no earthly idea, and I'm writing in one right now! You see the John [ you get the picture: John not equal to potty] uses his blog as a chance to refer to himself in the third person thus magnifying his importance in his own sick and twisted mind, but he is pretty sure that most blogs aren't used that way. I mean, what is it? Does writing every stupid thing that happens in my life down on a blog make it all meaningful if someone thinks I'm important enough to read what I wrote? I think it just might be that, a sad attempt to justify my own pitiful existence. You see, I read a couple of other blogs and it was like a window into what my life could have maybe been like if my parents hadn't chosen to become missionaries and taken me to this strange and foreign place, a place that I thought I would never be able to call home. I often have wondered what my life would have been like if I had stayed in the states. And then, with these blogs I found people who actually had lots of friends and went out and did all these interesting things, and when confronted with the fact that there wasn't many kids my age here ( or kids of any age really ), and that not only is going outside the walls of the compound dangerous, but there really isn't anything to do out there, it made me feel sad. Not jealous like you might think I would be, but sad. Regretting, I guess, a life that I would never experience. So maybe that is why I decided to start this blog, to maybe show that I too could have some sort of a life.
Or maybe I just started it to be able to speak of myself in third person.
The John thinks that this is most assuredly the reason.
He does indeed.