Nice to meet you, Hank

May I call you Hank? Hankblog is nice, don’t get me wrong, but Hank, just feels better. I’m the new intern at the Henry, who is the older brother which you may or may not have rivalry issues with, but that’s fine, because you’re still a functioning member of society and that makes it OK. My name’s Ryan and I’m a graphic design student and writer at the UW and I might even have some rivalry issues myself, Hank. What I’m trying to get at is that you’re not alone. It feels nice, right?

The powers that be have set this thing up between us, and I really think we could be interesting. I hear you’re pretty popular on the internet, which is a lot better than being popular on reality TV,  don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. If I get to know your friends (that’s you, dear reader, if you haven’t already seen through this flimsy conceit I’m setting up here), well then that’d be swell as well.

A little about my history, Hank, because I know your type. I remember I had a blog when I was in high school, because like a lot of high school kids I had a lot of emotions, so let me tell you now, Hank, that you don’t need to worry about where this is going because you’ve seen it all before. But that doesn’t mean it’s not worth it to give it another go and that there is no want of experience from me when it comes to the specific internet tubes that deal with blogging. I don’t know, however, if the “tubes” reference is still culturally relevant, so that might be some cause for concern.

Because I want this relationship to be a meaningful relationship, a relationship where we both grow as people and robot, respectively, and because I don’t want to have to ask you later where you think this relationship is going, I say we take this thing slow, Hank. I might drop by now and again along a regular schedule but I might also show up when you least expect it like a dollar bill you forgot was folded up in your back pocket, just sitting there.. I mean, it’s really your money anyway, you didn’t really earn any more money than you already had, that is, there is no net gain, per se, but still, you’re happy. And you know what, Hank? I’m happy when you’re happy.

Permit me to continue the extended metaphor for a second, because, truly, I’m your dollar bill, Hank, and I’m waiting to be spent on half a bus trip, tickets to that thing your like, or maybe even penny candy at the local malt shoppe. I say you take me to said malt shoppe and we just, you know, like, enjoy ourselves. Let’s do that soon, OK? We should really try to live our lives in the now, and right now, Hank, my favorite flavor is mint chip.

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