Hey look it's me.

This isn't an exploratory or adventures post.

I woke up this morning and was kind of down. I knew it would happen, being new, not knowing that many people. I almost started to question my move. Almost.

I love hanging out with people and I get lonely easily. Since I have been single I have been down on myself. All of the same bullshit everyone goes through. I'm not a pussy hound or a rebound guy, never have been. All the same I kind of want to meet new people, women specifically. Then that fear creeps in. The one that I have let over take me for the past 5 years. I'm not good enough, good looking enough, I have bad credit, I don't have a nice apartment, my teeth are fucked up, blah blah blah. That shit that doesn't seem to get most others down, but occasionally kicks me straight in the taint and then grazes the sack on the way back out. Just enough to double me up into the fetal position.

This morning that started to creep in. I'll never be in a relationship or get to date anyone again started to push down upon my synapses and almost take over my brain. I was almost ready to go curl up on my bed and just watch Netflix all day. Then I started to think about all the hot, beautiful, sexy, intelligent, awesome fucking women I have dated or had sex with. Why did they date me?

Why did Heather date me when I was living in a garage with two other guys and we had no money? Why did Amber who made 10 times what I did come over to that same garage or put up with me living on my moms couch when I had hernia surgery? Why Are all of my Exes still friends of mine? Why did Jenna start dating me?

I'll tell you why, not my looks, my bank account, not my style. MY fucking personality! My friends (real friends) love me because I say what is on my mind, I'm arrogant but confident, I can be witty, and I try to learn both sides of a story or a problem before I rush to judgement. I used to never let my finances, looks, or living situation or lack there of affect me. I know how to have fun and will do it at anytime. It may not be flying to Tahiti or rushing off to London to have Tea, but fuck you if I'm not awesome. I can make an entire patio of strangers laugh at me, at you, or with me and with you. I don't know much but I do know I'm fucking awesome and I have a multitude of friends, loved ones, and hot ass exes, well most of you anyways to prove it.

PS if you are questioning wether you were one of the hot ones... you probably were not. Love ya.

Whitewash and Circumstance

“Like it? Well I don’t see why I oughtn’t to like it. Does a boy get a chance to whitewash a fence every day?”
This line stuck with me as I went exploring the past few days. I'm not sure why, but it did.

So Thursday night I got a text from an old customer of mine saying I needed to send a resume to a bicycle shop down in DUMBO (Down Under Manhattan Bridge Overpass). Well I was a little liquored so I decided I would do it Friday morning since having a clearish head is always better than a few vodka tonics deep. Well I woke up Friday, sent off my resume and decided I would go check out this area DUMBO maybe even check out the shop to introduce myself. I got up made breakfast, checked some emails, showered and got dressed. Hopped on the A, and short time later I was in Brooklyn Heights. I quickly got my bearings and proceeded to walk off in the direction of DUMBO. I had read up a little on this neighborhood, huge art/music area in the 70's/80's and 90's given the name by its residents otherwise just know as Brooklyn. It was know for the amount of murals and graffiti on almost every building. Well imagine my surprise when I got there and there was little to none of that. I took no pictures because if you have been to Downtown Fullerton and seen the new "old town apartment" buildings they have put up lately then you have seen most of DUMBO. Beautiful brick buildings plastered and painted with modern interpretations of what old towns would look like. Graffiti painted over; and murals all but none existent. It was blasé. The streets were lined with Audi's, BMW's, Mercedes, Lexus' and all other make of yuppy transportation. All with ski racks and bicycle racks. It was disheartening to say the least. This area which once was a spot of inspiration and beauty was now an homage to vomit inducing gentrification. Well at least the bicycle shop was fucking cool. A non-profit shop that rebuilds donated bikes to sell to invest back into the community. They also teach youths how to work on bicycles through school sanctioned events. I kinda of really like it. Check em out if you get a chance http://www.recycleabicycle.org Susan is a badass and for some reason really reminds me of Heather Starr.

Well from there I decided to head over to the Brooklyn Bridge and give a walk. It is awesome a path suspended above the cars with a  view of the city and the harbor that is awe inspiring.

Walkway above cars

Harbor, Governor's Island, Statue of Liberty way off in the background

Financial District From Brooklyn Bridge

 I proceeded to walk into the Financial District once again and this time just walk around get used to it. It has no numbered streets for the most part and are all names. So I wanted to get used to it. I didn't take pictures of anything but I had a rad time. I spent the better part of 3 hours down there. I tried to go see the NYSE but viewing has been off limits since 9/11.

Well with a full 8 hours of exploring I decided to go home, get some food and hit the sack. I was bound to do more the next day.

Saturday I woke up and had no clue what I was going to do. I texted Carlos to go to brunch but found out he had traveled back to California for the weekend. He was hanging out with my dog and sent me video and pictures to rub it in. Well with that knowledge where should I go? I meet someone who found out I kinda like books and they told me of this place called Strand Book Store. Off Broadway and 14th. So I hopped on the A again got down to where I should of transferred to the L but it was down for the weekend due to maintenance and them expanding the subway system. So I hoofed it on over across 14th St and ended up in Union Square. There was a farmers market going on and the food all looked delicious, fresh this, home made that, lots and lots of wine. Puppies everywhere. It was awesome. But I had a place to go.

Strand Book Store is massive. It is old school. Double sided metal racks from floor to 15' tall ceilings held stable by odd placed scraps of 2x4's. Tables of books all over the place. It was overwhelming to say the least. I got no pictures because you can't stand in one spot too long there were so many people in there. Funny thing I see more people reading books than E-readers such as Kindle's Nook's or iPads and tablets. I figured in a city like this with the fact that you have to carry everything everywhere you would see tons of electronics. Not so much.

Well from there I went a meandering. I walked and walked east and a little south. I ended up in the LES (lower east side) and Alphabet City. LES is all intent and purpose the Silver Lake of Manhattan. Cool young sheik hipsters, bodega's and pizza joints replaced with Organic coffee houses and Vegan Thai restaurants. Buildings stripped of their dirt and replaced with painted bricks. Not a lot of Graffiti anymore at street level. Just a few murals here and there. I only took one picture of a mural because I felt disrespectful taking a photo of most them because they were dedications to the deceased.

Joe Strummer is Dead Jedi. Did you know that?

I love PSA Graffiti!

As I walked around LES and Alphabet City I noticed a great deal of Gardens and Parks.  Not to mention all of the trees on every street here in NYC except the Financial District. Most of them are closed due to it being winter and really all there is walkways and snow. I can't wait for spring and summer to see all of them in bloom. I came across one that was open and people were doing some work on it. There was this awesome branch construct that I was intrigued by.

What is this Construction?

Ladder to a lookout!!

Well I walked around some more and came across awesome people and beauty all day. The thing that kept grabbing at me was the "whitewashing" of this whole city. Distinct neighborhoods that I grew up reading about, learning about and seeing through band videos, artwork, documentaries, where being blended out. Alphabet City is a place I was told before I got here that white people didn't venture into 20 years ago. It wasn't if you were gonna get mugged, but when you were gonna get mugged. I walked around for hours near housing projects and lowly corners always being smiled at and never feeling in danger. Not saying I want to get mugged, but there is some awesomeness to feeling a tinge of fear and the only fear I had was where the hell is the subway platform and man I still can't afford to live over here.

Well with that full day of exploring and my hands getting numb I decided time for a cocktail. So I headed over to the sheets again and proceeded to "break" every drink the staff could throw at me. After a few hours I rolled out and headed home. The whole time I sat in the subway station waiting for my train I just heard Tom Sawyer in my head “Like it? Well I don’t see why I oughtn’t to like it. Does a boy get a chance to whitewash a fence every day?”

Central Park Why you so big?

So Sunday I woke up and decided I was going to do so more exploration. I didn't know where or what but I was going to get out some more. I have done that about every other day. This city is so awesome and there is so much to see and I want to see it all.

Well it started with the park across the street from my apartment. It is big but there is this strange Tower in the far corner from what I can tell and it seems the park sits on a cliff. So I went a walking and I was actually surprised the park is not as big as it seems. It was rather a short trek from my door to the tower all in all 5 minutes or so.

What is this tower?

There is nothing there about what this tower is, why it exists, or when it was built? Not here at this location. But it is freaking cool and completely gated off. It sits like a lone soldier of time in a world ever advancing. I was going to hop the gate but what you don't see in the picture is the four park employees that were walking around picking up trash. I did find out what it was though. I'll get to that. 

Well my stomach started acting up, and cut the exploration of Rape/Murder park, (as my friend B and C like to call it), short. So I walked on home, grabbing my laundry from the laundry mat, and went to the restroom. I did see what I wanted to see so there was that. I also got this rad shot 

Bronx from across the Harlem Aqueduct on a cold morning!

Well being of strong testicular fortitude I was not going to give up so I quickly hopped on the A down to 125th street transferred to the C and got down to 110th. The Far northwest corner of Central Park. Man is it awesome. As I entered the park the path led me to a traffic lane which was divided into walking, Running, and cycling. It was so busy and congested it reminded me of riding the river trail 11am or so on Sundays. People everywhere. There was a marathon going on in the park as well as the first Sunday without snow so a great deal of cyclists where there as well. Well I walked up the hill on this path and found a trail that broke to the southwest that was walking only. I don't need my fatness being the hiccup in someone else's day. So I excused myself from the hustle and bustle of the traffic lane. I quickly ended up in snow and on the top of the hill at what they call Grant Hill. I would of shot a picture but it was snow and and a fence and that was it. So I kept walking south/southeast. I went down a hill followed a trail and came across this.

Random Waterfall in Central Park which there are many

Old stone bridge crossing the stream from the waterfall.

I walked through the bridge and quickly was in a little pasture opening in the trees with no pathways and surrounded by multiple creeks and streams. It reminded me of being on the farm in Colorado in winter. I stood in that area for about 20 minutes until some random runner came out of nowhere and interrupted my peaceful moment. I still have no clue where he came from, but whatever.

I proceded to walk some more and I just wandered along trails and paths with no direction in mind and no idea of where to go. No mission just trying to get lost in Central Park. I found myself near the North field which is fenced off due to the snow and them wanting the grass to be strong in the spring, I saw Blue Jays and Red breasted finches, huge fat fucking squirrels which we will get to. I couldn't get pictures though because I'm slow as shit with my phone camera. 

I ended up on the East side of the Park about three quarters of the way up. Near 5th Ave. I didn't want to leave the park so I hung a quick left when I saw another trail. I walked up it not knowing where it would lead and as I crested the top of it I found this;

Jackie-O Reservoir. Kind of hard to see but there is the fountain in the middle

I walked around this snow and ice covered manmade lake, for what seemed like forever. Always south and for a moment a little west.

As I walked I came across lochs or some call them dam buildings. They are really beautiful in their construction and architecture and have stood for decades if not a century and a half. 

Well as I kept walking I came across the main loch which was huge and beautiful and led out to the main street. It was covered in plaques and tourist information about the water and irrigation system of Manhattan, which lo and behold is the last place I would of thought to look for my original conquest The TOWER!!

Signage telling the tower was part of the original gravity fed water system of New York along with Harlem High Bridge.

 Well with that mystery solved I looked around to see where I should head and was stunned. There is one of the places I want to visit and forgot about in the overwhelming nature of this city. I proceeded to cut out a course for this place of beauty and headed due east then North then East again. I walked along muddy, icy, slushy paths, slipping every once and awhile. I was going to get there. I exited the Park at 5th Ave and I believe 90th St. I walked southbound on 5th Ave and came across this Beauty of a Cathedral.

Church of Rest 

 Well after a block or so I came to it. I was there. This monument to art and beauty. The Guggenheim. When I was going to school for design this place always grabbed me. I dreamt of spending days inside of it. It is marvelous. And much smaller than it appears in MIB. It is awesome though to look at. I attempted to walk up to the front door but the place was packed. You can't see it in the picture but there was a line already at the front door and inside.

Guggenheim from corner of 5th Ave and 88th St

So with the museum being packed and not wanting to drop $25 to be overwhelmed and annoyed with other people I proceeded back into the park after walking down 5th for a few blocks. Then I remembered Carlos said something of a Castle. I will find it I said. I walked along the North Edge of the Met and looked to the Northwest. There it was the castle. Belvedere Castle to be exact.

From the main Terrace looking out over Turtle Pond

From the Main Terrace looking at Belvedere Castle

From the top Terrace looking down upon the two lower Terraces

The Tower of the Castle

What the Castle is used for now.

So after that I continued on. No direction just meandering along paths and trails. Remember the Squirrels. Here is one of those fearless bastards right now. They are not afraid of humans and will still your food. This one was 4 feet away from me and we sat and stared at each other for at least 2 minutes.

You wanna fight bro!

 The final part of my exploration brought me to Strawberry Fields. No clue what this place was just knew it had something to do with the Beatles song. I walked up a short hill and came to this.

Memorial for John Lennon. 

This is in memory of John Lennon and his life. This is the area Lennon was shot. He and Yoko's apartment at the time is directly at my back in this picture. I still say six inches to the left would of made the world a better place. It kind of choked me up. I remember when my grandmother called my mom to say Lennon had been shot. I had no clue who that was, I just remember I hated him because he made my mom cry. I was barely 5 years old. 

Well that is enough and way to big of a post but hey, it was a lot to take in. I'm going to try and keep up on this for some people who asked me to do this. Next one will be shorter.

To became Away.

This might be a "Vaguebook" type post but it is a thought that hit me today and it was all I could do not to stop and cry.

How did "to" become "away".

In the last 4 months or so my life went from being all about the moments and journeys to time management and destinations. There are stretches of my travels via bicycle that I have all but come to hate. The reason is they have changed in their purpose and or meaning. One of these routes is about 1.5 miles long, if that.

I won't bore you with points A and B because you might be able to pick up on it if you pay attention. Plus, like I said this is a vaguebook style post; pointing out the obvious would make that statement null and void. So on with what I was talking about before I saw shiny and digressed like a man that has used way too many mind altering substances.

This segment that I was speaking of used to be the route I rode to get "to" a weekly moment of fun. I would ride it daily and certain markers along the way made me happy because they were tick marks and obstacles that marked how long until I was at the place I would have a "moment" of fun. When they were tackled in reverse they were even better because they meant my return to the origin of my trip and peace and relaxation, love and cuddles, breakfast burritos and laughs. I didn't realize that until today.

Today I realized why that section of road traveled aggravated me lately. Now I ride "to" what used to be the point of origin. I have a set amount of time to get it done and what I came to do daily. It bums me out. What used to be a flight to fun and a return to happiness is now a trip to regret and painful departure from what once was. It will change one day hopefully. Now it just sucks the life out of my legs and ways heavy on my heart. It is really hard to pedal when you hold back lakes of tears and just want to sit down and give up.

Remember the Face of your Father, young gunslinger!

So I'm going to try and put into words what Fathers' Day means to me. It is a hard subject to realize for me and has over the years been a point of contention/aggravation in my mind. So here goes.

As a young boy my Father was not really in my life. There are many reasons for this but I won't bore you with the details of kid-knapping, craziness, and constant moving. Let's just say that some of it could be in a Chuck Palahniuk novel. Other parts not so much. I would see him, during the early years, twice a year if I was lucky. Before you all go dead beat dad on him, understand part of it is my mom's fault. But that is not the point of this.

I grew up knowing a couple of things about my Dad.

A) He was very talented with his hands. He was an airplane Mechanic, a Master Carpenter, and could fix anything. Example of this is when he and my mom got married he decided no store bought bed would do. So he crafted an entire water bed minus the bladder and heating element out of wood. I think a really nice oak. It was carved and burnt and sculpted. Everyone of my Mom's friends that saw it, wanted one and would ask where to get one. Her response was usually "Marry my ex Pete, and he'll make you one."
B) He is actually a damn genius. He got into trouble while attending College before he went into the Military. He was thrown out of a physics class, for arguing over future uses of lasers in society. His teacher said they were too powerful to be used in day to day life. Pops said they would be used to let you know when someone was entering or exiting a building, reading product info, and transmitting information over distance. He also told me back when I lived with him in Guam 90-91(another time another story) that I was an idiot for buying CD's, Tapes, Records. His exact words were "Jesse you're an idiot wasting your money on that crap. In a few years you will be able to store your music digitally on a device that is about as long and wide as a credit card, and about as thick as six of them." See what I mean. Genius.
C) He is crazy. Not crazy like "hey I shot my wife while fucking my dog" crazy. But not afraid of anything crazy. He never has been. He is not afraid to pack up and move to a country he has never been and try and start a company. He's not afraid, at the young age of 64, to get back on a bull and compete. He is awesome.
D) He is very talented. I have seen him play guitar and sing. He is awesome. He used to sing "Sad Songs and Waltz" to me as a child to put me to sleep. Sure he is all about Country and Western (the real stuff not your pop crap) But man can he do it well. When he and my mom first met he was a Rodeo junkie, my whole family is involved in that. But he used to play with the likes of Chris Ledoux R.I.P.. Chris and my Dad were really good friends, mom tells stories of Chris crashing on our couch when I was a youngin.

Knowing those things combined with the fact that I never really got to grow up seeing him, made my opinion of Father's Day confusing. On a day like that I would see my friends hang out with their lame, boring, ho-hum nothing exciting, white collar Dad's and wonder why I couldn't hang out with my freaking awesome Dad. Why did I have to learn how to play football from another Dad who just needed a spot filled on his team. Not from my Pops who was a bad-ass? Why did I have to learn to shave at 11 on my own with my Mom's razor and lava soap. Not like the scene from Lethal Weapon with the guiding hand of my father. Why did my friends get to build their first car with their Dads who didn't know a spanner from a cresent wrench when my Dad could fix a bent flywheel on the way home from Golden to Albuquerque, in his El Camino, with a hand file and floor jacks. Why?

Now as an adult I see things differently. I get to look back and cherish the times we did spend together and the ones we will get to. I get to look back at the time I rode from Tucson Az to Florida on top of a steamer trunk not being able to stand or sit in the back of my Dad's Might Max with a camper shell on it, listening to Dion and wrapping embroidery yarn on numbered cards for my step mom and realize that was freaking awesome. No kid has that story with their dad just me.
 I get think about the time when I sliced my big toe almost completely off on clam shells in the Black Snake River and my Dad yelling at me "Stop crying, you weren't crying before you saw the blood, so don't start now." How my step-mom sewed it back on, we wrapped it up with gauze and duct-tape and went to Disney World that week. Where I hobbled around stubbornly, while Dad tried not to let on that he was concerned/scared about me.
I get to look back at when I lived in Guam and went scuba diving with him, or when we got stuck in our apartment during a Typhoon and we used 3/4 plexi to board up the windows so we could watch the craziness, and we passed the time by throwing stuff out the balcony into the crazy fast winds, giggling like school girls. We even threw out a broken crappy 11" T.V. and were amazed by how it took off and up like a bat out of hell.
I get to look back at when I had my nose almost severed off, sitting in the hospital while they were stitching my nose back on, trying to make jokes to keep my bad-ass of father from crying. I got those no one else does.

See this is where my Dad was a badass Dad. I really don't have those memories of Dad being a drunken jerk. or Dad beating me to a pulp, or Dad grounding me. Sure when I lived with him we got into arguments and one poor attempt at a fist fight on my behalf, but for the most part I got to have a Dad, who unknowingly taught me so much about how to live life. I'm am so freaking thankful for that, that I now, at an older age, tend to forget all the negative of growing up without a Dad constantly around.

So with all that being said, in a very long-winded manner I apologize for, Dad Happy Father's Day! I love you.

She be bombing!

So I have kept quiet about this topic for the past few days, but no longer. Asshole damn is broken. There is a story of a young African American girl who was expelled from school for a "science experiment" going around and everyone is saying this is a race related event, or gender related event. No this is a stupidity related event.
The school is saying she made a bomb, which by the very definition of bomb "a container filled with explosive or incendiary material, designed to explode" is exactly what she made.
She is claiming she didn't know what would happen. I don't believe that at all. She was an A student in her sophomore year and in chemistry classes. My 7th grade year in basic science it was explained to me acids and aluminum were like modern day democrats and republicans they don't play nice with each other and if you lock them in a tight space there is going to be an explosion.
Now let us see what is the primary active ingredient in most liquid drain cleaners; Water? Nope! Bacon? Nope! Oh yeah it's Sulfuric Acid. See that last word ACID. It says it on the bottle usually in big letters. What happens when you put aluminum and acid together is a very strong and quick chemical reaction comes about releasing gases. Now if the reaction is taking place in an open environment you just get some rotten egg smelling gases, might make you a little sick. If you lock it up or seal it in a bottle you are going to get a pressurized device that if not made of a strong material will fail with violence, as it tries to escape. I know this because I used to do this with 2 liter soda bottles, a half liter of Muriatic Acid (Hydrocloric Acid HCL) and moms aluminum foil. Used to set them off on my street when I was about 13-14 years old and run like hell. They would set off car alarms and bleach the pavement. Usually only took about 30-45 secs. I knew not to do it at school because it would be considered a bomb. At 13 I understood this concept. Somehow she did not. Even though she is 2 years older than I was at the time, a Sophomore, an A student and in chemistry class.
Now why did I bring up the race thing. I have yet to see any proof that her school district, school, administrators, teachers or whoever else let non African American students get away with the exact same thing. I have yet to see that they didn't expel another student for setting off fireworks, which when I was in high school a buddy of mine got expelled for lighting off the little black cats, which are mini little bombs, even though he set them off no where near other students and didn't even cause any damage to the parking lot. No suspension just straight expulsion on to continuation school. I have yet to see that they did not expel any other student for similar acts of stupidity.
As for gender once again I have yet to see any reports that they let a male get away with this exact same thing.
Bring me the info showing it was race or gender biased and I'm 100% on board and will scream to the heavens inequality, unfair, and fuck Florida once again.
Now with all that being said do I think the punishment was harsh, maybe a tad over board. But if this was lets say the class jack ass male or female there wouldn't have been an article about it. It would of just been local gossip "Did you hear So'n'So made a bomb at school" No national attention, just everyday life. Part of life, especially in high school, is learning that actions have consequences. Think about your high school jack ass. No one batted a god damn eye when I got suspended or sent home, it was just Jesse being Jesse.

Failure is Always an Option!

Over the past few years and especially over the past few months I have gotten the question or statement or whatever you want to call it "Why?" "Why do you/they do __________(insert activity) that causes you bodily harm?"

See 8 years ago I got back on a bicycle after getting off one in 1993. I started riding cyclocross, mtb, fixed, and road. I loved it. My first day on the Fullerton Loop I was riding a friends single speed cyclocross bike, at mile 1.5 out of 11.5 I wrecked. I superman'd over the bars (OTB might be used again in this post) into a bank on the other side of a little ditch I was riding through. I had not laughed so hard or been more freaked out at the same time, in 12 years. I knew right then I missed being on a bicycle. Since then I don't think a month has gone by that I haven't hit the deck. I never think I shouldn't do that again. Is that wrong?

Now go back 9 months ago and I got my 24" freestyle MTB frame, a Black Market Bicycle Co. Contraband. Since I have gotten that I have injured myself weekly. I have gone OTB, looped out, snapped a chain and drove my knee into a 45 degree bank, and just last weekend I tried a feeble pedal grind for the first time ever (front wheel on the grind box along with pedal and crank arm trying to control slide) the bike shot out from under me and I landed straight on my ass, back, and head (wearing a helmet before you preachers come after me). I got up said "God Damn that hurt!" then proceeded to laugh hysterically and the giggle fits ensued for the next 2 hours.

When I tell other people of my wrecks, their response is usually one of two different ones;
A) "OOOH, Ouch that sounds bad" or
B) "Why would you do something that you obviously are not good at?"

My reason and the only reason I need. Fear!

Fear of what you ask. Simple.......the future.

Most people look at the future as a good thing, retiring, traveling the world, luxury vacations, guided tours, 2 week cruises, growing old, becoming a grandparent, advisor, bbq's with the family. You know the standard bullshit. The average maximum age in the US is 78. I'm 1.5 years away from the half way point. From here on out I'm the old guy ( in age not mentality). The future of my life scares the shit out of me. I usually don't think about it. I am now for your enjoyment and thanks alot assholes. Now I'm all angst-y.

Here is the thing, most people I have met who are 60+ are dying. Not dying like we are all doing right now, but suffering from some ailment. Wether it be something insignificant like minor arthritis or something severe like cancer. They are all suffering. Sure they go on tours but it is guided and planned or touristy. I don't want to wake up one day and be like so many elderly people I have met that most of their ailments are work related i,e.; bad back, hyper tension from work related stress , bad joints due to standing all day, poor circulation due to sitting all day, carpal tunnel syndrome due to typing all day. I want my injuries and ailments, when I get old to have bitchin stories to go with them. I want someone to ask why I can't extend my left arm fully and I respond with "Well let me tell two different awesome accidents that caused that......."

The other part of that fear of the future is the fear of regret. I don't want to get to an old age and think "Man I wished I would of tried that feeble pedal grind when I was younger." or "Man I wish I would of done ________." I already do that now and it scares the crap out of me that I do that. I try not to because "the past is in the past and I'm moving on!" should be everyones motto, but I catch myself doing it and it un-nerves me.

Well yeah so there you have it. The ramblings from an almost middle aged, peter-pan syndrome, 15 year old in a man's body, idiot, that in all actuality probably make no sense, as I really don't care about editing. If you get this, than awesome. If not, sorry! I don't speak english all that well.