Hey all 55 of you who read this! Whoever that is in Germany, I'm flattered that you chose to waste your time reading a homework assignment. Honestly. I really wish this BLAWG could be written in comic sans. Comic sans on hotrod flames would be neat. Anyway, we were talking about regrets and stuff like that a couple of days ago in class, and I realized that as a 15 year old, I have a surprising amount of regrets.


 For starters, although I mentioned in the previous BLAWG that I love crew, or to be more specific, "crew is love, crew is life," that is simply because I row so often that literally the only thing I have time to think about when I get home from school is rowing. Oh, and by the way, the reason I say crew instead of rowing is because they are interchangeable, and crew is simply easier to say. On an unrelated note, people always ask me, "How is rowing crew?" That pisses me off immensely. First of all, you never "row crew." You just say "row" or "do crew." Even then, "row" is the more widely accepted term. Do you see what I mean about rowing dominating my life right now? I just spent precious time of my life explaining the difference in terminology in a sport that is becoming less and less relevant. Speaking of which, crew IS a sport, not a hobby. I'm sorry guys, I have a serious rowing problem.

 I have another regret, or at least, one more that I'm willing to share. That regret is that I spend far too much time procrastinating. Now, I know that some of you out there are like, "but Brian! Procrastination is a part of everyone's life? How can you hate it when it's human nature?" I think that's what I hate about it so much. I regret that my naturally lazy state has rendered me completely useless between 3 and 4, the precious time I have between school and crew, and between 6 and 8, which is after crew. These 3 hours of time out of my life have made every single homework assignment I've gotten this year, given this is the first year in which homework has actually been significant to me, so much more stressful that I'm losing sleep, thus making me more tired when I get home from school/crew, which creates a vicious cycle in which I just keep procrastinating more and more. Do you see my problem? To make matters worse, I've developed this sort of nonchalant-ness that not only makes me slack off in class, but also makes me indifferent about homework assignments, unless it's a project. I actually have a project that I really need to get started. Does anyone know how to make a website? My email is bhJames27@yahoo.com, so feel free to email me some tips.

 So guys, those are some regrets I have. That's about it. I'm just gonna to say something, completely unrelated right now, I'm not gonna post any videos or pictures or any of that bull crap because this is meant to be a rant BLAWG, not a BLAWG in which I gush about my favorite celebrity or video games or any of that crap. I hope you weren't looking for any pictures on this blog, because you aren't getting any. Unless, of course, posting visuals on the BLAWG becomes a part of the homework. Anyway, those are my regrets, and I hope you enjoyed my pain.

Alright so I'm not a blogger. In, fact, I've never even seen a blog until I was told to search one up for homework the other day. Anyway, My name's Brian. I'm 15, I row, and this is my blog. Oh, I'm sorry. This is my BLAWG. That's better. Let's get down to business (to defeat the Huns!) So, odds are the majority that I'm gonna be writing about is food. Food or crew, because crew is love, crew is life. This particular post will be about food. Bad food, more specifically. So, my family is one of travelers. That being said, we were in New Orleans, the home of Mardi Gras, and I was served the absolute worst gumbo I've ever had. On that trip, I went on a gumbo spree. I hadn't eaten gumbo before, and what better place to try it first than in the place it came from? I loved it. It was absolutely fantastic. Then, one fateful afternoon, my parents decided to take my brother and me to Mr. B's, a highly-acclaimed bistro in the heart of the city. Needless to say, I was pumped for the gumbo. We sat down at our table in the restaurant that night, and before I knew it, my gumbo, my savory, delicious gumbo was sitting, steaming no more than a foot in front of me. I lifted my spoon to my mouth, prepared for the taste to come cascading upon me in a rush of mouthwatering goodness. I bit down upon the gumbo... And was severely disappointed. It tasted like mud. It even looked like mud. I was shocked I hadn't noticed that before. Not only was it completely bland, but it had far too much rice, which soaked up all the gumbo. I took that one bite, and i set it down. I was disgusted, and that appetite that I had worked up for the meal was gone. the worst part is that our waiter, Otis, was a saint. That man was probably the most kind waiter I've ever met. In fact, walking out of the place, he even hugged my mom and grandma. Dude had that southern hospitality that makes you feel bad when you realize you don't have it. Anyway, Otis was so nice to me that I felt bad to return the meal, for fear that I would hurt the feelings of that angel in a tuxedo. That's the single worst food experience I've had in a while, and I hope you enjoyed my pain