Because she told me to.

The church that I live in has a bat problem. And not a "problem" in the sense that your Sega Game Gear running out of batteries is a problem; this is the "Hi!-I'm-a-bat-and-I'm-going-to-try-to-kill-you" kind of situation. We've become fearful, every night. We live in terror of death from a foot above our heads. It's become ugly and stupid. A full-fledged, man-to-beast midnight battle.

You wouldn't believe how many bats we've had in the church.

We've had two bats in the church. But I'm sure there are more somewhere.

I usually dispatch of our adorable captors with a bath towel, or mattress pad...The trick is to picture yourself like some Ninja Gaiden and swing your terrycloth hard at exactly the last second. My mother tells me this type of behavior is going to give me rabies. I do not care, I don't think Ninjas get rabies.

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This is at least the fourth blog I've started over the years. Not one has survived. But now, I've been asked to start one. It's like a commission, but for free. Which is really not like a commission at all.

For some reason, everyone feels the need to make their first blog a mission statement. Much as I'd love to do that, I think instead I just won't. Stay tuned for the next installation of: I don't care.