Don't tell me I can't spell.

Here we go again.

What is this, my third attempt at writing a blog? Fourth? I've lost count.

You know why none of my previous blogs worked out? It's a 12 letter word - COMPLICATION. I've always thought that if I wanted to stand out amongst the other 11.5 million people playing World of Warcraft, then I needed to work hard to provide some insight that no one else has thought to put to digital paper. You know that type of mindset does?

It COMPLICATES things.

And I don't typically do complicated, unless I have to. So all my intricate and grandiose plans falter on the back of a man who doesn't want to spend three hours of his day thinking up a jingle to tingle Tommy Raiderguy's goose. Yeah, that's right - I get tired and quit, likely before I even get started.

Nonetheless, the allure is still there. I like writing. And I'm better at it than most kindergartners. I also love it when folks read what I write and like it too. In the words of so many others, "I want to be famous!"

Yeah, well that's probably not going to happen. Seven people visiting my blog twice a month would be nice too, though. I'll aim low.

And it's not going to be COMPLICATED. I'm not going to tell you how to min/max or gem or give my advice on how to be the best raider. Go to Tankspot or Rawrcast or Snazzy's Guide to Shadow Priest Hypochondriacs if you want that.

From this point on I'm a self-proclaimed wow humorist. I'm going to write snarky, self-indulgent clumps of words good only for the slight grin that may appear on your face whilst reading them. You might not like my humor - if you don't, just stop reading and go watch cartoons. I'm not going to be offended. Those animators do a lot of good work.

The way I see it, being a wow humorist is the most legitimate-sounding way of convincing folks I have something to say and it's worth their time to read it.

Best of all, it's not COMPLICATED. I just write what's going on in my head. Leave the research to Elitist Quirks and Ciderhum and Marmots, whatever the crap those are.

Fair warning: I'm probably going to write a bit of satire at some point (if this thing doesn't get too complicated). So if I tell you to go eat Irish babies or try out flying mounts in real life DON'T DO IT. Unless I'm there with a video camera to tape it.

That's all I got for now. I'll tell you what a Larghter is in the next post. If you're still reading, congratulations - you just might get your wings one day.

In my past blog attempts this is where I would try some cheesy sign-off, like "Cheers" or "Until next time." Frankly, thinking about doing that now makes me want to gargle kerosene with lit firecrackers.

My closing should serve two purposes: 1) Give you a sense of closure on the post and 2) Entice you to read my future posts.

Honestly, that sounds COMPLICATED. So instead, I'm just going to tell you what will happen to you if you don't read my next post.

Read my next post or you're going to get Chicken Pox. Twice. I don't care if you've already had them. In rare cases you can get'em again - I've got a friend suffering through the pox a second time right now. So come back or you'll get them again, and this time they'll be in your throat and eyelids. And you'll grow a beak! Scary stuff!