Buckets of Salami in a very fast car.

Nine of the clock has come and gone, and the limited possibilities for procrastination on Facebook have expired. So, ta da, I have created a blog. Also, if I may further justify this dubiously constructive whim, my head is full of the sound of engines revving. Many thanks to my father for his desire for an in-home noise room, and my brothers consistency in movie taste. Vrrm, vrrm. Sounds fast. 

Today I submitted my hopes and dreams to the (relatively/disconcertingly) recently asbestos freed Coburg Library, in the form of 393 words circling the inspired topic of choice: "Describe the book that got you hooked on reading!" I lied. The true answer, I'm sure, is a picture book, possibly a Golden Book. The exact title is difficult to pin-point, but possibly involved a trip to the supermarket. I felt, justifiably, I hope you agree, that the stretching of the truth to a period of my life where my age contained two numbers rather than one, would improve both the quality of the story, and the possibility of a semblance of truth to said story. And, let's not be coy, the possibility of a win. So, there. 

Quote of the day:

"Could you put the Salami in my bucket. Please?"