Checkin’ levels

Sometimes you just gotta man up, grab the axe, and start swinging. That’s how I roll to make the baller money. Fo’ sheezie.

This morning a big rod of clarity was jammed into my slumbering mind by Inner Steve. He yelled, “Wake up! Think about how our freedom of speech is being taken away for purely political reasons!” And I obeyed, rapidly constructing an airtight syllogism that shows the folly of such maneuvers. And I did it with my eyes shut. Unfortunately, this was my only clear-headed moment the entire day. The rest of the day I was scatterbrained and forgetful. This is not a good combination when you drive around a big expensive truck with lots of hard, sharp corners that can put big dings and dents in puny cars. Luckily, I’ve survived the day so far. Tonight I’m going out with my homies, as I often do on Thursday nights, and I might meet members of the fairer sex, but I’ve got at least one outstanding problem: I’ve lost my shaver’s power cord, haven’t been able to shave for a week, and look only a little less hairy than a yeti. Not cool. I’m giving myself stubble burn.

Last weekend was a good time. I drove down to San Jose where I met up with a friend, and we drove down to Anaheim together. I got to meet a bunch of new people, saw some old buddies, and hung out with my brother. Probably the highlights of the weekend were seeing my friend Josh do a stand up routine at the world famous Comedy Store on Sunset Boulevard in LA and hanging out with my older brother and my old friend from Alaska, Rob, who I hadn’t seen in about 4 years. However, it did suck as I was driving back up when around 9 PM I couldn’t go any farther without sleeping. I slept in my truck at a rest stop for about 6 hours. I’d crank the heat in my truck super high until the cab got piping hot, then I’d turn off the engine and sleep until it got so cold again I woke up. I did this until it got light. Sometimes you just gotta man up, hit the road, and go meet people. That’s how I roll. Fo’ sheezie.


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