Here There Be Chips

I believe that I owe a bit of an explanation.

“Tomorrow” apparently means “next weekend” and “the rest of the band” means "Peter" and “fancy mission statements, dystopian visions of the future, and horribly un-funny sarcasm” means "a history lesson of sorts."

Tony—the third member of our eclectic bunch—is from New York. He has a xanga. A few months ago, he was dabbling over the idea of producing a portfolio website for his web design and his artwork and what have you. My response to this declaration on his part: “Dude! We should make a website!”

Or something like that.

And so we now have... this thing.

We have this concept and this idea that now has a tangible existence on the internet—a blog page... thing—and the time has come for an idea to actually figure out for itself what it really is.

Peter signed on rather quickly when I proposed to him that the three of us start some form of blog. We envisioned it as a place where we could sit down and see the world around us and somehow encapsulate our vision and our perspective and convey it in a manner that would be—and this was the major stretch, obviously—if not entertaining, then at least interesting.

Because, admittedly, there’s no reason in the world for you, the non-existent reader, to care about the three of us—Cory (I’m the cartoonist from North Carolina), Peter (he’s the director from Kent), and Tony (he’s the slack blogger from New York)—or what we have to say. And, in part, we’re pretentious enough to think that the fact that we recognize that is enough to make us worthwhile.

So there is our mission statement, if you want to call it that. Three guys, three friends, from three different parts of the English Speaking World sitting down and talking about whatever.

Don’t hold your breath.

For the record, I am currently in Kentucky, writing this on my laptop, while sitting in a hotel room, as today is my grandparents’ 50th Anniversary. My attempts at trying to get all three guys to contribute to this piece (which will now be done as three separate entries, with all three of us chiming in our on perspectives—look forward to that, I guess?) and my being here in Kentucky are the primary reason for the tardiness of this article.

Because I know you care.

This isn’t very funny. I want chips.

And so it begins.

The rest of the band will get here later.

Expect things proper tomorrow.

Things like fancy mission statements, dystopian visions of the future, and horribly un-funny sarcasm.

But for now? Just enjoy the stupid name of the place and the really ugly "I need to actually sit down and edit the template" color scheme.

So there you have it. 3 Guys and a Bag of Chips.