Ezekiel 34:31: And ye my flock, the flock of my pasture, are men, and I am your God, saith the Lord GOD.\n\nI am sophomoric. I cannot think of a proper title to start off my journey into “journalism,” so I create a childish amalgamation of untitled and titty. Such is the life of a man in his late twenties drinking beer in the middle of the day when he should be doing something productive. It is a good beer, however, so I suppose I shouldn’t dwell. The beer is Sweet Water Brewing Company’s Hash session IPA. Perhaps I shouldn’t be so happy consuming a brew which shares a name with current jackal acting as America’s attorney general. I have serious doubts that the formerly mentioned gentleman even consumes beer. I believe I’ll have a regular IPA next.

I really should be doing something else right now. I have some drywall to finish, I’m afraid the water pump is going out on my wife’s car, our other car needs the shift cables replaced, and my truck needs an oil change and spark plugs replaced. There are also portions of my roof which need to be redone. I suppose multitasking would at least let me try to price and order the parts needed to make these repairs. Shit! Shift cables for this old beater are going for around $100. This is criminal. Damn. Now I’ve spilled beer on myself.

Should I be double spacing this? Who knows? Academia has caused me to stress over mundane things such as this. I have to remember to register for summer classes soon. I think, after bombing classes for long enough I have finally decided what the hell to toil away at for the rest of my adult life. Again, more undue stress college life is causing me. The dog is whining. This I must deal with head on. Why can’t all things in life be so simple?

This dog is 130 pounds of pure agony sometimes, but I enjoy him immensely. He’s a rottweiler who my wife is training for a fellow veteran with some significant injuries due to the hazards of war. I’m going to miss this dog when he’s gone, but he’ll be doing something great, so it isn’t so sad to see him go. I love dogs. My wife has a true passion for saving, and training dogs. As a man of the cloth, an Ordained Minister leading a Congregation at the Universal Life Gonzo Abby; I can confidently tell you dogs are far more straightforward than people. A dog’s love is pure and unwavering. I am a firm believer that there are no bad dogs, only bad owners and trainers. President Trump doesn’t have a damn dog. What kind of person doesn’t enjoy the companionship of man’s best friend? A man can never be trusted who doesn't enjoy the company of a dog.

This Sweet Water IPA is really hitting the spot. It is certainly more bitter in the aftertaste than the session IPA, but not so aggressive as to run afoul of those not into the hop bombs one may come upon sometimes. It doesn’t have as much of a pine taste as some IPAs, but the floral notes are certainly there. What kind of hipster pseudo connoisseur crap is this? I’m not my brother. Chad is the real beer man between the two of us. Just to be clear, he is certainly no hipster either.

My current stream of consciousness writing style seems wrong for some reason, but I cannot help it. This must be more academic Nazism creeping in to force me back into lock step. That joke is very inappropriate. Not for making light of Nazism, but for further attacking the academic realm. American society seems to have a real problem with finding a balance between being well read, reasonable, and educated with getting your hands dirty, making terrible and inappropriate jokes, and making a living via respectable and honest blue collar work. My old man busted his ass doing the latter of the two in order to provide for his family. At the same time, he wanted us, his children, to be educated so that we could do what we wanted to. Perhaps my upbringing was some sort of blessing in that regard. It certainly was not without struggle, sadness, and rebellion, but it molded me into someone who respects the plumbers, bricklayers, and miners of America. It did, however, take me a little longer to garner the same respect for the education my parents wanted me to have.

The current state of American liberal arts colleges does seem strange to me still. It does at times seem as though there are those who are looking for any reason to become offended or cry “racist” and “misogynist.” I’m sure I have already caused some readers to paint me into a corner here and label me as such and regard my uneducated, foolish opinion as mud. Maybe they’re right. I’m just another shit head putting his thoughts into physical form for others to read and criticize. I’m too far right for those who want a ban upon hunting, and fishing, but too far left for people who still hold the belief that marijuana and homosexuality are both given to us by Lucifer himself. What’s a guy to do though? Be a libertarian? Sorry, but I don’t place that much trust in people and the American businessman to do the right thing for society as a whole. Another dog wants to be let out. I could use a second to finish my beer anyway.

This time it’s Henry, our not quite year old standard poodle. When he needs out, you take him out fast, because he hasn’t grasped the concept of not pissing on the rug yet, which is a shame because that rug really ties the room together. Henry is a ham, and I am a lame asshole for typing that. He may be a good symbol for the American voter.\n\nI really do love my dogs. I cried as though I had lost a relative when I had to put my old dog down. I spent the last year of his life carrying him down the steps of our house to let him out to go pee and poop. My wife and I always worried that we were being selfish and keeping him here longer than we should have, but I believe he was happy. He could have gotten up and down the stairs without being carried, but I wanted to make sure he didn’t beef it while trying to navigate the stairs too. His seizures eventually became too much and we knew it was time.\n\nThis is another way that I am a bit of a conundrum I suppose. I love animals. I have all kinds in my house. Yet I love to hunt and fish as well. I’m a guy who might have Johnny Cash, Hank Williams Jr., David Allan Coe, The Notorious B.I.G., Eminem, NAS, Slipknot, Pantera, Lamb of God, and almost everything in between on the same playlist. It’s tough today being someone who is so rooted in that middle ground. I have something I can relate to with almost anyone. I am truly cursed. I suppose I have written enough for this first, virgin post. What category is this going to be falling into? Politics and beer I suppose. I'll let those in charge decide such things. Son of a bitch. That damn water pump with the gasket is only around $30 to $40 for the Dodge. Those shift cables really are a rip off. Fuck it. I’m leaving the title as is too.

Editor's Note: The title was changed from “untitled and titty” to “Welcome to My Flock” thus the authors’ wrath was incurred. As he feels the entire article has been compromised.