Welcome To My New Website

I'm Al Sterner, and I'd like to welcome you to my very own blog-site.

A couple of years ago my wife Annie started a website for my son Mike's soccer team. She's the team manager, and wanted an avenue to get information out to the parents.

Since there was plenty of room on the website for extra features, Annie invited me to write game stories for the team. I had written sports in school, and had recently been volunteering to be the media director for the local women's soccer team, the Mile High Edge. I had forgotten how much I enjoyed writing, so this became a fun new hobby for me.

Since our soccer website was meant only for the parents of the team, I started changing the game stories so that I could poke good-natured fun at our coaches and parents. Annie would take a bunch of photos, and then I would caption them with some smart-ass remark. The parents seemed to enjoy it, and it was a lot more fun for me rather than just writing straight game stories.

Along with that, occasionally I would write about some experience that would happen in my everyday life. It started with getting abused at the dentist, and then moved on to things like flying to North Dakota in a small plane, getting in a car wreck, and keeping a diary of my vasectomy.

The problem I have is that we have a bunch of kids that frequent the old website, so I'm not able to speak as freely as I would like. We all live in the real world, and in the real world, sometimes we swear. I've already gotten in trouble several times because my stories contain some double entendres that are just for the parents. Well, my friends at Edge Soccer aren't amused, and even though it's a private website, they still will call the team's head coach to complain about the content.

So instead of censoring myself, I've decided to move to my own site, where I can just cut loose if I feel like it. I'll move over some of the articles I wrote for the old site, and maybe change some of the wording so I can accurately express my true thoughts without fear of repercussion.

For example, in a recent article I wrote about how much I hate the French. I wrote a few jokes about surrendering, chain smoking and never bathing.

What I wanted to write is that I think the French are a bunch of arrogant dickheads, and nothing would make me happier than if an asteroid dropped on the entire country and made a giant, greasy, smelly shit stain.

But I couldn't write that. Now I can, and I already feel a lot better.

Damn, I hate the French...