The First Post

This is always the most difficult thing for me to write: the first of anything. In the past, if I found myself having a similar stumbling block, I would resort to leaving some post containing random videos, or numerous photos with obnoxious comments. However, today, this post…there seems to be something else that is called for.

For those of you who do not know me, allow me to introduce myself. I am Xavier S. Rothechilde. The “S” stands for whatever I choose to have it stand for at any particular time. I am the esteemed owner of Rothechilde Orchards, a business I inherited from my parents. The orchard is very large and contains the most delicious varieties of apples and cherries that a person could ever taste. This year is a momentous year for the orchards; a vineyard is being planted so that the world can taste the wonders produced from the soil about Rothechilde Estates in a miraculously intoxicating, liquid brew.

When not enjoying my time about the Estates, I can typically be found roaming the Samurai City, home of The Rothechilde Foundation. The Foundation is a charitable organization with the mission of promoting economic development and promoting community building. A champion of the underprivileged,  The Rothechilde Foundation has been a guiding beacon to the citizenry of Samurai City through technological innovation, providing sources of income, defending the privilege of the privileged, and assisting the scientific community through various means of research and development. While it has been said that The Foundation is a merely a front to shelter the Rothechilde fortune from taxation from an unscrupulous government that seeks to rob the Rothechilde family blind, this is most certainly not the case. A team of legal experts have successfully proven so and will present relevant documentation upon subpoena.

While we are on the subject of clearing myths, it should also be mentioned that while I, your dear Xavier, have been known to enjoy a taste of absinthe from time to time, as well as the occasional sexual dalliance, I AM NOT A DEVIANT! At least not in the traditional sense. You see, deviance is in the eye of the deviated… Besides, why else would someone create a smartphone capable of storing tons of porn on it unless you were meant to view it during boring board meetings our inane bar conversations.

I do have a taste for firearms and martial arts.

When not seen driving one of the fleet of Foundation Hummers, I love to tool about in my Alfa Romeo that I paid a great deal to have tricked out to look like a hearse. But that reminds me, the Hummers (not the blow jobs, although if you are offering…). Many have criticized The Foundation’s use of what seems to be gas guzzling destroyers of the environment as counterproductive to our mission of clean cities and community building. However, this could not be further from the truth. In actuality, when we fill the massive tanks of our military mock-ups, we save trips to the gas station, hence saving gas. Additionally, more of our Hummers on the streets means fewer of the typical hoopties that you may see around…which is pleasing aesthetically.

In the next few days, this blog will have updates and additions that will make you more familiar with the Foundation. In fact, a whole page is dedicated to the esteemed people who make The Rothechilde Foundation such a valuable community asset.

In addition to my life as a gad-a-bout, Orchard owner, and charity guru, I can be heard playing classic goth tunes on Darkside Radio. You can read more about us on yet another page, soon to come. And with that, dear reader, this experiment as a first true blog entry has come to an end. Hopefully, I have made you a little curious; curious enough to stick around to read when things get truly interesting around here.

5 comments

  1. How lovely to see your words, darling. I will most certainly be sticking around… really I am waiting to hear about the wine fueled Veep attacks. You know the poor simpleton has it coming. Hopefully one of us will be able to get to get to him before the Smeag-Busta pile drives him into another car.

    Kiss kiss!

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