Just for Men....and Women

So, I'm in line for chow the other day and the dude behind me informs me that I have grey coming in.  I inform him that's what "Just For Men" is for.  Honestly, I don't care.  I will totally rock grey hair.  A bad ass will be a bad ass.  It's not our hair that defines us.  Yeah, some woman just disagreed.

My life has been interesting to say the least.  I have earned my grey.  So has my mother for that matter.  Today, I'm 33 and the world is at my fingertips.  Literally.

I'm learning how to work that to my advantage.  Truth is, if I was out there, life would be trying to consume me.  From here, I can consume life.  Did you hear what I just said?  I have to reach from here to try and grasp things.  If it's a 'stretch' or a 'reach', it's going to mean more once I grasp it.  If it's not worth it?  Then I'll let it go.  Just like that.  I'm not going to waste my time.  Or yours for that matter.

This has caused my passion for life to skyrocket.  My level of determination is through the roof.  And my focus?  If I put it in my sights, it's a done deal.  I am a train.  I'll roll into the station and rock your world.  Or I'll blow on by.  Either way...this mother ship rolls on.

Back here I focus to do my time, not let it do me.  I apply that to all aspects of my life.  Life does not consume me....I consume it.  My focus is not about where I am, but rather what I can accomplish from here.  Always reaching.

I don't reach for charity or handouts.  If I want it, I put it in my sights and I get it.  The legal system put me in prison.  Now I have all this time.  And look!  I'm in your ear.  Toby Keith says, "How you like me now?!"  I ask....how do you like me know?  Now that I'm on my way.

Corona says "Miles from nowhere."  That's right where I am, minus the Corona.  An island of my own.  Well, let's not forget the supermodel.  Yet another example of reaching out and grasping what I want.  Yep!  Even with this grey and a 20-foot fence surrounding me....I am still a beast.  Really, what I am is 'intense'.  Very intense.  For example.....

I take life and break it down into hurdles.  Manageable hurdles.  When you break down a twelve-year prison sentence into one day at a time....miles of 20-foot tall fences and razor-wire into steel hedges....guard towers with a loaded gun on top into a shade tree....when you learn to rest your head and sleep among killers....when you openly express emotion in front of these dudes when your 14-year old daughter writes you....you are a bad ass.  I earned my grey.

My friend, what is your hurdle?  Bills?  No job?  Someone passed away?  Someone you wish would pass away?  Maybe you are somewhere you do not want to be?  Is someone hurting you?  Do drugs have a hold of your life?

I've been where you are.  This dude has probably been anywhere you could ever be.  Now let me help you.  Break it down......

Step on the other side of the fence from your hurdle.  Put it just out of reach.  Lay it all out where you can see it in front of you.  Then decide what stays and what gets cut.  Focus.  Keep what you need and let the rest go.

Think of the junk drawer in the kitchen.  Yeah, the one full of shit.  Shit you want to keep.  Some day you will need it.  Then again...when was the last time you did?  That's your life.  Wasted space. Clear that shit out man!  Make some space for a supermodel in your life.  Make more space for your kids.  Make space and have a kid.  Live life my friend....don't let life live you.

Remember you are a fuckin' hooligan!  Declare your independence.....miles away from nowhere.

Love Muddin'?

J.J. does!  Check out these photos of J.J. enjoying his trucks and mud.... 

Do you love muddin'?  If so, then, you might love this piece for Mud Life.......

 

Lowrider

J.J. has been working hard....pushing pens for hours, creating one bad ass piece of art after another.  This one salutes Lowrider Magazine.  Enjoy!

More Freakin' Riddles

As a reader of my blog, you know I tend to be an ass.  My life resembles a broken down cottage: rusty hinges, sagging doors, and a roof that leaks.  I'm a work in progress...then I get to hear my woman's sassy response...."Mike, you are fine!"  Then again, she brings out a side of me most people won't see.  Ummm....and she just thought 'a side NOBODY better see.'  You are right dear.  You always are.  So, I can keep these rusty hinges?

Well, here I sit.  Seven years left on a 12-year sentence.  My radio is playing a tune...."that which don't break us will make us stronger."  From the rest of the lyrics, I'm fairly certain this song is sexual in nature.  Sounds like he's talking about his pecker.....something 'she' is doing is making him stronger, longer.  Leave it to these rap dudes.  Anything to make a rhyme.  Years ago when I came to prison I adopted the line "If it doesn't kill me, it will make me stronger."  I was looking at doing this sentence, but after listening to this song this thought seems good to apply to all areas of life.

My woman told me the other day to let them move with us, or get the fuck out of our way.  Yes, she is quite sassy and I love this.  Obviously, we don't have cars back here.  Yet when someone brings a negative vibe, or attempts to rain on my parade....I say to them, "Get out of the car."  In other words, move along.  Don't tread on me.  I would challenge you to do the same.  You will feel better, trust me.  They either move, or get with the program.  When someone comes into your life that steals your sunshine, then you need to kick their sorry ass out of the car.

"The meek shall inherit the earth."  Where I live the meek and the nice guy both occupy the end of the line.  Only the strong survive.  I came to prison thinking I was all that.  I wasn't shit.  Today?  I don't care if your three times my size.  I will throw you out of my car if you don't move on your own.  Prison will not kill me, but it has made me strong.  Don't be fooled by the manscaping.  I also tan, lightly tweeze my eyebrows, and get face peels  Just remember I am also a prisoner that will put my foot in your ass.

My dad once said, "Son, if you know you have to fight, then throw the first punch."  The element of surprise is then in your favor.  Obviously, I need to be careful punching people in their shit once I'm out there.  People out there want to call cops and press charges.  Pussies.

This reminds me of yet another saying.  "Your mouth is writing checks your ass can't cash."  I'm not a banker.  Don't try me with a check.  Ass, cash, or grass....nobody rides for free.  My woman brings the ass, I don't smoke grass....cash will be fine.  The other option?  Move out of the way.

The majority of our readers is women.  You carry babies around for 9 months and get fucked by some man daily.  Whether it's how you want it, or some other way.  Whether you realize this or not, you are the stronger sex.  Dudes tend to be the pussies.  If your a dude hitting a chick?  Then your an ass and a pussy.  If you are a chick being hit?  You need to call the cops.  I needed to clarify that.  I have a mother, three sisters, a woman, and a daughter.  I don't play that abuse shit.  And for the record, verbal abuse is just that.  Abuse.  So, put that fucker out of your car too.

God, I feel like I am getting meaner.  I speak in riddles and throw people out of my car.  Then again, if you read my blog you know I have a good heart.  We call could use some repairs.  Nobody is perfect.  Hell, if I was normal it wouldn't be nearly this cool to read about my life.

And......who said this is cool?

Easyrider

Copyright M.S. 2012

A little photo album of Scott Free

Awhile back, J.J. wrote about man he met when he arrived to his current prison in Forever Brothers.  That man became J.J.'s best friend.  For those of you that have been following for some time you know who this is.....yep, it's Scottie!  Now, he is home and calls himself Scott Free.  Check out some photos of our fellow Hooligan, Scott Free.......

Scottie, we are so glad that you are back home with your family, and doing well! 

Are You Whipped?

J.J. wants to know......

Have you ever been the one whipped in a relationship?
What are your tips to not get whipped?
Have you ever been in the dog house?  If yes, why?  How was life in the dog house for you? 

J.J. has been on the phone a lot lately.  His buddies have nicknamed him AT&T.  The guys had this on J.J.'s bunk for him after one of his many phone calls......

Your Dream or Your Nightmare?

J.J. is cranking out art right now for a variety of publications that feature art.  Today, this piece arrived for Thrasher Magazine......

Rides

Here is another bad ass piece by the bad ass himself....the Tattoo'd Hooligan.  This piece was created for Rides Magazine, and will be submitted in hopes to be a featured piece in an upcoming publication.

 

Returns Anyone?

'For faster service, please have payment ready.....'

You see that statement everywhere.  Someone is always ready to take your money.  Shop until you drop.  Stores push sales.  They want your money.  Ever notice there are six checkout lanes and only one return lane?  A whole store full of employees to assist you with your purchase.  Then one retard in customer service who only knows one sentence..."Do you have a receipt?"

Wouldn't you just love to haul their ass over that counter?  Could we just stuff them in the underside of a shopping cart...that space reserved for a hundred-pound bag of dog food.  Should you get the urge to buy Fido's dinner a year at a time.  

I'll bet that smug little prick in customer service would fit down there.  Just wedge him so his head is in front.  Then you can race down the aisles and narrowly miss each rack as you speed past.  What a rush!  Yeah.  As you can see, I've made a few returns in my time.  I'm left standing there thinking what happened to 'the customer is always right?'

Well, that's just like most warranties.  Good until you walk out that front door.  Truth is, no I don't have a receipt.  Good ole' Aunt Edith purchased this knit sweater over six months ago.  She's just as handicapped as this schmuck working customer service.  And if I dare ask her for a receipt she will want to know why I'm trying to return such a fabulous golf sweater.  As much as I hate my own transactions at customer service, there is always something that blows my mind.  Like the granny holding up a watch in a box.  She has a question...."Could you tell me if this watch is really sterling silver?"  First, the box clearly states that in fact the watch is sterling silver.  Second, why didn't you stay in the jewelry department to ask your question?  Clearly this genius is only trained to ask if you have a receipt.  Not assist you in your jewelry purchase.  Now he's on a phone paging someone.

Next in line is a young mother.  She has shoes and items that need to be exchanged for a different size.  Mom comes prepared and has her receipt.  Looks like this one may move along smoothly.  OH!  Wait!  Sorry...the store has discontinued one item and the other is sold out.  People don't think about these purchases for little kids.  Kids grow like weeds!  Your gift is going to sit under a tree for two weeks.  Purchase a size bigger...let them grow into it.  Then again...maybe you did this on purpose!  Your sister-in-law pisses you off.  What a better way to screw her over then to buy her kids a size too small on everything.  Jam her up with a little Christmas cheer....send her to customer service with a pile of returns.  Whoo Hoo!

Next in line is a greasy looking hobo holding a $200 automatic mocha latte frappuccino maker with a bean grinder.  He's just here to cash in on all the confusion.  He entered the store empty handed, pulled the 'coffeemaker-plus' off the shelf and now he's about to pull the oldest scam in the book.  Best part?!?!  He will be the only one to walk away pleased with his customer service experience.

Granny is still looking at the watch.  Your sister-in-law is pissed and about to storm out.  Your getting nowhere.  You're late for work now.  And a hobo just made $200.

You Without Sin.....

What do Obama & Lady Gaga have in common?

They are both proud of who they are.  Are you proud to say that you are "Born This Way?" 

Lean on Me

[An oldie, but a goodie.  Ester found this post from July!]

Over the course of this blog, I have wrote very openly about my drug abuse,  I do this in hopes that my story may help someone who is currently living the same struggle I lived.  However, there are other reasons as well.

A recovering addict needs love and support...much support.  You can’t make it alone.  Perhaps you’re having a struggle in your own life.  I’m talking to you right now.  First you have to recognize the problem.  Drugs are the most common, but alcohol, gambling, even sex are things that grab hold and are hard to be free from.  Eating disorders, smoking… the list goes on and on.

I realize in my own life I have made big moves toward staying sober.  First, I know I had a problem.  Next, I went to my family, the people who love me, and asked for their support.

This project has become a huge part in my decision to remain free from drugs.  Accountability.  I look back over my life and realize that prison, in many ways, saved my life.  Then, the J.J. project – not the ‘project’ as much as you.  YEAH, you!  Just as you are sitting there reading, you are quite honestly watching me.  What’s this dude gonna say or do next? – this has become a major part in my choice to live a sober life.

Even if I manage to get clean on my own, if nobody else knows, then I’m really only letting myself down if I go back to my old life.

…And honestly, as an addict, you let yourself down all the time.  …Because deep in your heart, you want to be free, but it hurts and you give in.  That’s why if you really want to be free… tell someone. 

There are drugs here.  We get random drug tests back here because they know there are drugs here.  I am still free.  Since I was 15 years old I have smoked cigarettes.  About two years ago, I decided to quit.  It lasted for almost 3 months and I started back.  I beat myself up, too.  Part of me said "See, you’re not as strong as you thought."  …And that right there pissed me off.

I realized I needed a reason.  I needed to give my heart a good reason to help myself.  Fourteen years ago this August, my daughter was born.  I found the reason I needed in my little girl.  On her birthday this year, I was one year smoke-free.  You may not think that’s such a big deal.  For me it is huge.  You see, I have an addictive personality.  I needed this.  I needed to know I was stronger than my addiction.

I won’t lie, I didn’t even tell my daughter I quit until the 8^th month.  I was scared to fail again.  When I told her, I wished I had done it earlier.  Because I never want to let her down.  I already have let her down enough.  Now that I told her, it’s over.  …Back to accountability.

For this very reason, I write stuff like this.  Maybe it will encourage you if you’re having a hard time right now.  But even more than that, you have become my reason to stay clean.

If you have a problem, tell somebody.  Tell your mom, tell your dad, tell your spouse or your best friend.  Find a church and tell a pastor.  Tell someone who cares.  I care.  This project cares.  Don’t feel like you stand alone.  Find help, then take that hand and hold on for dear life.

My sister and I developed this thing in order to help people.  It helps me all the time.  I’ve said it before, but it’s on my heart again.  Maybe you need a reason.  Perhaps you are searching and you need an answer.  Do you need some help?

Why did I sit down and write this today?  Why was I awake at 2 a.m. to write ReachingOut?  …Because of things I can’t see.

Ester and I had a conversation months ago.  She said she likes to follow her heart.  I love you sissy.  You follow your heart and before long, you will know all too well about heartbreak.  I’m a convict doing hard time.  That’s why I follow my gut.  It’s a built in safety device – a device that quite likely has saved my life.

But since I’m all about keeping it real, I can’t lie either.  Sure, I try and sound like the tough guy, but you read The Answer is Love and you’ll know my heart is in this project.  I’ve never met you, but I care about your life.  I don’t care if you’re from my own backyard or from the outback.  Black or white – I don’t see lines of any kind.  Maybe you just need to know someone cares.  I let my little girl be the reason for me.  You need to find that reason for yourself. 

Maybe you’ve burned your family one too many times and stumbled upon this blog.  I questioned whether or not to write this.  Maybe you’re wondering why you’re here, listening to me today.  I don’t know if it was my heart or my gut.  Maybe both inspired this.  These days, I just go with it.  Either way… I still have a good hand that reaches out.  So does my sister.  You are not alone.

If you are free, be thankful.  If you want to be free, you can be.  I get a lot done from bunk 113.  And, I have time for you.  We’re cool like that.  Is there something you want to read about?  Is there a topic you would like me to write about?  Just leave a comment here.  I will hear about it.  I will sit on bunk 113 and write a new post.....a new post that might help you, a friend of yours, or a family member that you love.  Just say the word. 

As always, much love from The Hooligan  

hardDRIVE with Lou Brutus

How does a prisoner halfway through a 12-year sentence enjoy a rock show headlining bands such as Disturbed, Korn, Stained and Five Finger Death Punch? 

You hang with Lou Brutus and his badass radio show called hardDrive. 

Right now I am sampling the band Stained and their new, harder sound on a track called Eyes Wide Open.  I love the new sound!

The beauty of hardDrive is you hear the bands you love, but the songs that are not typically played.  Most radio shows takes a song and plays it to death.  So much that you flip the station when it comes on because you already heard it 20 times previously.  Take Disturbed for example.  These dudes are incredible. 

I saw Disturbed in downtown Orlando back in '99 or 2000.  The local rock staion WJRR held "Earth Day Birthday."  This event was held downtown and after the show was over the town was destroyed.  All the local newspapers bashed the event.  The idea that it was suppose to celebrate Earth Day, yet the city was trashed opened the door for bashing.  But, what do you expect when Disturbed takes the stage? 

Now, the event is held in a farmer's field.  They learned the hard way.  People were climbing up the sides of buildings to get a better view.  The show was sold out and I personally jumped a 20-foot baracade fence to gain access.  The next time I saw Disturbed was in Tampa and the fence separating the bleachers from the floor seats was torn down.  The whole floor became a mosh pit.

Van's Warped Tour came through Orlando in '04 or '05.  Once again, I jumped their fence too.  I wasn't about to pay to see that line up.  I believe Sum 41 and Blink 182 were the largest acts to hit the stage.  Plus, jumping the fence is half the fun.  Security chases you through the crowd. You rip of your shirt, put on a ball cap and blend in.  Watching as those fat ass security guards go rushing by.  Then you fire up the joint you hid in your sock, celebrate your victory, and enjoy the show. 

For what it's worth....I think they finally cured me from fence jumping.  The security here totes shot guns and they are a little more than I care to try and out run. 

So, thank God for Lou and the hardDrive show.

Right now Korn is on my radio.  These guys kick ass and take no prisoners....well, lookie there.  Moving on....

I have yet to see Korn in concert.  However, if they're still making heads bang and pits mosh in say...seven years?  Then, I'm there!  Until then, I'll be sitting on bunk 113 each Saturday, rocking out to some of the best names in music. 

Lou Brutus?!  You are the shit man!  You bring the rock.  The songs that dudes like me would never hear if not for your radio show.  All we have is a radio.  And, I am not the only one.  Many dudes rock out to your program. 

The alternative is...Honey Tonk Saturdays where Hank Williams and Willie Nelson are representing strong.  I tend to slide over to these during commerical breaks and catch me a little Country Boys Can Survive.  How true that is.  This country boy survives on Korn, Stained and Theory of a Dead Man. Throw in System of the Down and some Pantera and we have a party. 

Music continues to move me.  Many times it is our best friend.  Much love to the people who make the music.  Many thanks to Lou Brutus and DJs across the country who make music reach out to people all over the place....even to a prisoner's ears. 

A quick shout out to Nikki Sixx and his trusty side-kick Kerri Kasem.  They bring us the Sixx Sense and I truly enjoy hearing Nikki make fun of Kerri each night.  Tons of fun!!  Another day down, and another way I free my mind. 

ROCK ON!
The Tattoo'd Hooligan

~ A Thorn In The Flesh ~

My Story: In Ink on My Skin. The Real Tattood Hooligan.

From day one of this project I stated I would leave a mark on this world.  All my life I've been leaving a mark.  Today, I'm trying to leave a positive mark.  I feel it's safe to say that I am.  My life is written on this blog for you to read, much like the story of my life is also in ink on my skin.

I don't ask you to agree with me.  Hell, even my own views have changed in the year I have wrote for the Jailbird.  During the past year, I have addressed many topics.  I continue to put myself out there.  Whether for it is for a laugh, a good cry, or just to make a point.  I have shared nearly every emotion a dude can experience.

I have got clean, placed good people in my life, and become a positive role model to my daughter.  My mother has her son back, my siblings have a brother again, and it has all went down right here for you to read.

Every six to eight weeks I get a brief summary of the J.J. project.  What posted, comments, where new visitors sign in from...yet I have never even seen it personally.  We have done this for so long that I forget some of the topics I have covered.  On top of that I mentioned my views.  A year is a long time.  Much can change in a year.  I will change nearly all my pen pals in a years time.  My shoes wear out in about a year.  My brothers wrote me three letters in the past year...that's all three of my brothers put together that wrote me three letters.  I laugh...boys...go figure.

Changes in my life include staying free from drugs.  I've been free for nearly four years now.  I'm on the other side of the valley now.  I can look back and see what I left behind.  Never again, will I go back.  I will be faithful to my woman, and live within the legal-limits of the law.

Personally, I don't need New Year's to make a resolution.  Let's face it....if you are waiting for New Year's Eve, you will fail.  When you are truly ready to quit, you will quit today.  Not, next month.  I make resolutions all year long.  And really...that's when you will keep them.  Wait for New Year's, you won't make it.  Sorry.

So, I'm looking back.  Is there a topic not covered that I could address?  I have to laugh.  At this point I have covered nearly every topic.  Just a most of my sink has been covered with the story of m life.  That in itself bring a whole new topic.

Most of my tattoos have been done since I came to prison.  I had half-sleeves before prison.  That way when wearing a t-shirt I could cover my art.  When I came to prison I decided to do full sleeves.  Now, with a long sleeve shirt I can hide my art.  Why?  Why am I trying to hide me?  My passion for art...the story of my life...

I'm a full-grown man.  If you don't like me....oh well!  I am a good man.  I love my family and they accept me.  My mom gave up and sees past these walls and my art.  She loves me for me.  So, I am about to step it up some.  The other day I asked my woman..."Baby, will you still get that sparkle in your eye when I'm an old man covered in tats?"  She said, "Of course."  I continued with, "Will you hold my hand in yours if it's 70 and covered with ink?"  Thing is...I already knew her answer before I asked.  Really, I just wanted to hear her say it.  She said, "Go ahead, just don't do your face....your face it cute how it is."  I have the baddest chick in the world.  :)  And, I got you little lady.

I am currently designing the art for my hands and knuckles.  Of course, I will be representing.  I am the Tattoo'd Hooligan, so that will be on my hand.  The rest is a surprise.  :)  Now you know mom.  I will assume the rest of you Hooligans will not care either way.  So, just like this blog continues so does the story of my life.  Both on this blog, and on my skin.   I'll make you feel.  Just like I feel that needle as it pierces my skin and delivers that spec of ink.  That needle pounds out a story line.  The motor hums a tune.  The story of my life.  My story.  My memories.  They become etched on my skin, just as they are etched on my heart and soul.  Some day perhaps you will read my story.  Oh, that's right...you are reading it now.

Methadone & Me

It's 5 a.m.  I'm sitting in my truck looking out the window.  There's a Doral 120 hanging out of my mouth.  I'm sick.  I didn't sleep last night.  My body is covered with sweat.  The smoke from my cigarette is rolling into my eyes and they burn.  My nose is running.  My boots are untied.  One lace is shut in the door.  I didn't have the energy to bend over and tie them.  I take a final drag off the cig, then flick it out the window. 

Cars begin to pull in around me.  Before long a 'closed' sign is flipped to 'open'.  I roll up my window with the last bit of energy I can muster.  Then get out to take my place in line.  I'm not sure if I even want to be here, but I need help.  Looking at the others in line, I see me.  A whole lot of fucked-up people.  There is a mother pushing a stroller with her baby.  A guy my age.  An old man with a walker.  People of all ages and races. 

It is now 6 a.m.  Once I am inside I am handed a questionaire.  I sit down to fill it out. 

How long have I been using?  What is my drug of choice?  How many milligrams do I use a day?  Do I drink on top of the drug use? 

I fill this out and turn it in at the desk.  A nurse takes me to a room for a physical.  She takes a urine sample and while it's being analized she goes over more questions. 

On a low end I use 500 milligrams of oxycodone a day.  But, I use up to 1,000 and even more.  When I am out of prescription doses, I buy street heroin.  Lately, I have been smoking crack as well.  I also smoke the heroin. 

Today, I am at a methadone clinic.  I was told to come to the clinic in a state of withdrawal.  I am.  My urine shows I have all the drugs in my system I claimed to be using.  The nurse then walks me to a small window and hands me a small cup.  "Drink this," she directs.  I have just been dosed with the drug methadone.

By the time I leave the clinic the shakes are gone.  I don't feel sick an hour later.  Only empty.  I'm not 'high'.  I'm not sick.  I feel dull.  Is this what 'normal' feels like?  I don't know...I forgot. 

My day continues...

Later in the afternoon a friend throws me some roxycodone.  I chew them all at once, then take a blast of crack.  Now I'm in a better state of mind.  For the first time today, the beast is happy and allows me to smile.  I light another Doral 120 and smoke it to the filter.  Long, deep drags.

I continued through the next week like this.  'Dosing' at the clinic at 6 a.m. then using whatever is available as the day progresses.  Methadone is designed with users like me in mind.  Once it is in your system, it becomes an opiate blocker.  After a week of morning doses of this drug, the street drugs no longer get me high. I am still a junkie and try.  I would spend my money on crack, or a bag of heroin.  I was using it with no effect.  I can't get high.  All I get is pissed.

This causes me to drink more.  The alcohol still works...only after I have drank myself to black out.  So that's what I do.  People marvel at how much I can drink.  I am a machine.  Now I have yet another problem.  I drink too much.  I continue like this. 

The clinic has upped my dosage.  I hear methadone is just as addictive as opiates.  Withdrawal from opiates is 3-5 days of hell on wheels.  I've been there.  Methadone is 30 days of hell.  That's not cool.  But, by daily dose of methadone is 12 bucks...my daily does of opiates runs in the hundreds.  What should I do?  A week later I quit the clinic and hit the opiates harder than ever. 

Opiates and narcotics are the drugs that consumed me.  I couldn't find the strength to get free.  They are also the easiest for me to conceal while 'under the influence'.  I told my woman this the other day...catch me sucking a Doral down to the filter?  Give me a drug test.  That's not a joke. 

I always want to be better.  For me and everyone who loves me.  Basically, I've put myself on probation.  I'm a fan of preventative maintenance and short leashes.  Not many guys are...I know.  I can't live like most guys.  I need my woman in my shit.  Not many dudes like that either.  This dude loves it.  What God, my momma and my boo can't handle?  Ha!  It isn't much. 

Happy New Year!

I hope that the New Year brings you a bad-ass year!