A tribe called Cabbage.

Walline here. How's it hangin?

It's no secret. I'm about the onliest person any of us knows that lives at home. At this late stage in my quarter-life I have, out of both pragmatism and comfort, abused the goodwill and accommodating nature of my parents to an unprecedented degree by doggedly refusing to vanish from Sauk Trail.

Truly, a proper impetus to vacate has been lacking. Under similar circumstances, many among us would rely on pride or some similarly self-conscious spur to drive them on. As for me, well, I apparently am not resonating at the appropriate frequencies of shame in this instance. Maybe I'm just too cheap. Or maybe I just lack the sense that the Good Lord gave goldfish.

In any case, things are obviously changing, as I've begun moving some of my belongings out of Warner Creek at into the west end of Hoover, into a garden apartment called The Cabbage Patch. Within the cozy confines of The Patch will reside the doings and goings on of the Two Man Frat, a coalition fated for dissolution in a scant three months. Hopefully, however, I will be able to use the Cabbage Patch as a springboard out of the WC and into my own habitations, as I understand is the general way of things for us middle-aged youths living outside the Republic of Italy.

I think I just sensed The Captain light a celebratory cigar.

Anyway, I just wanted to say hi. There should be lots of fun things to look out for from 2manfrat in the future, including the results of our ill-conceived and ill-fated projects, like learning how to wire up custom electronics, as well as The Cabbage Patch Garden Party blogged just below this post and slated for tomorrow afternoon.

Cheers!