Jan 18

Fuck Your Ego

“Please leave your shoes and ego at the door”.


Walk into any Jiu Jitsu academy in the world and you are likely to see those words written above the door. Leave your shoes so the mat stays clean of all the dirt, debris, and dog shit that gets stuck to them as you walk through life, leave your ego so your mind can do the same.


The first part is easy. Footwear is easily removed, but ridding yourself of the ego requires a little more effort. It can rarely be removed without force. If you bring your ego onto the mat it will be beaten, twisted, cranked, and choked out of you.


After competing in some form of combat sport for most of my life and facing opponents of various size and skill, I can tell you that there is none as relentless and dangerous as the one that lives in your head. It cannot be reasoned with. It does not understand diplomacy. It”s a fight that must be fought over and over again. If you let the ego win, it keeps you stuck in the past. If you don’t kill it, it will determine your future.



An inflated ego will not last long on the mat. I don’t run into too many there, and by now, mine has learned to stay far away from it, but in the “real” world things are more complicated. In a more bland and civilized environment, overblown egos flourish. Humility learned on the mat can help, but it helps to have a non violent reminder once in a while. If you pay attention to the moment you’re in right now, the universe will give you that suggestion when you need it.


A good friend will help keep your ego in check. Every night around midnight no matter how cold, tired, or busy I am, I take my dog for a walk. We take a different path every night so both of us can take in new sights and smells. Once in a while, If he has said his prayers, eaten his vegetables, taken his vitamins and otherwise been a particularly good boy that day I will let him determine the route. The other night, He brought me to one of those reminders.



Jul 21

The 4 Things You Need To Be A Bad Motherfucker

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My birthday is approaching. I hate birthdays, but I enjoy getting older.  Each year, as I step closer to the abyss, the moments become more critical. The least critical of these moments is the celebration of my birth. I have a hard time celebrating my birthday. It insults my intelligence.  I have no recollection of that day.  I have no affection for it. I suppose it was a big day for my parents. But being the youngest of 4, I imagine it was  anticlimactic for them too.  Birth and death are pretty much always the same. Its easy. You don’t have much choice of how you come or go. Between beginning and end is where you have a say in the matter. Thats the hard part.   There is nothing special about being born. It happens to most of us. All that matters is what you do before you go.

Since my first birthday, I have been haunted by the question of who I am and who and what I want to become. Doctor, lawyer, president, were all options I considered, but I wanted a challenge. I never wanted a job, I wanted a quest.  The answer came to me when I was 14.



A Bad Motherfucker.  Thats about the best thing a boy could hope to be. At the time I was a soft, fat, weak motherfucker, so I set about discovering and mastering the elements that make one a bad motherfucker.  Im still on that quest, but here are a few things I have come up with so far…



1. Intelligence- If you are not smart you are dumb. Bad Motherfuckers are not dumb motherfuckers.  Be smart, motherfucker.


2. Courage-  Only dumb motherfuckers are not afraid. If there is no fear, there is no courage. Bad motherfuckers are afraid of everything and do everything anyway. Not only do Bad motherfuckers confront fear, they seek out what frightens them.


3. Toughness-  Being tough is not a talent. It is a skill that must be cultivated and continually practiced through strengthening the body and the mind. They feed off one another, each one serves to make the other tougher.

“This world is rough and if a man’s gonna make it he’s gotta be tough” Those are lyrics to live by. 


4. Cool- This is perhaps the most important element of Bad Motherfuckery. You have to be cool at all times. Cool is not based on external appearance.  It is a state of mind.  Motherfucking Zen. To be cool is to be unflappable and calm no matter what you are faced with. Whether it be a beautiful woman or a gun to your head it makes no difference. To a bad motherfucker they are the same. His state is controlled internally not externally. 


You don’t just wake up one day being a bad motherfucker. It is product of maniacal practice and pursuit. I found my way through dedicating my life to the martial arts. It helps to have a passion. It also helps if your passion itself is a bad motherfucker. Going after your dream will put hair on your chest and fire in the pit of your guts, both hallmarks of bad motherfucking.


I like working for what I get. Making something happen is more rewarding than letting something happen.  I normally despise birthday presents, but there is one gift that I cherish above all others. A gift from my mother several years ago.  It was cheap, but to me it’s priceless.  A brown leather wallet. Not just any brown leather wallet. It’s the one that says Bad MotherFucker.


I failed to mention that bad motherfuckers carry cash, so bad motherfuckers need bad motherfucker wallets.  I’ve carried the wallet with me everyday since that birthday. Its been all over the world with me. It has seen it all.  Sure, it’s fun to whip it out at fancy restaurants and when buying coffee and groceries, but more than that, it is a constant reminder of the quest I am on.


If you’re a bad motherfucker, Im sure you already have one, so don’t bother clicking here, but If you think you want to be a bad motherfucker and all you are now is just some normal geek off the street type motherfucker, you have a choice. You can continue to walk through life with your little  eco friendly fanny pack made from recycled toilet paper and be just like every other weak motherfucker out there, or you can get your hands on one of these bad motherfuckers right here.



Ps- If you click one of these links and buy a bad motherfucker wallet for yourself or someone you love, the internet will give me money. All proceeds go towards making myself and others the baddest motherfuckers we can become.




Jul 17

Sorry Guys, Size Does Matter. Here Is The Proof

I like to fight and Im not sure why.  I like to write and draw, but there is no good reason for that. For almost 20 years I have been obsessed with choking necks and breaking limbs.  I find great joy in breaking people, but also in building them up. Im not sure which one I enjoy more.  When Im not doing that, I want to spend my days roaming and wandering aimlessly.  I get thrills from playing cards and gambling. Winning and losing.  I like to cook and occasionally I enjoy the company of a beautiful woman or 2. I know which one of those I enjoy more. Sometimes I feel weird, and I spend a good amount of time wondering why I am the way I am and why I do the things I do.

I love to read…sometimes.  Im reading a book about writing written by a writer. Here’s what he writes about writing.

“…writing is something you can never do as well as it can be done. It is a perpetual challenge and it is more difficult than anything else that I have ever done-so I do it. And it makes me happy when I do it well.”


Now I know why I am the way I am and why I do the things I do.


One more thing I took away from that book about writing 

“Shun the epic. All the guys who can paint great big pictures can paint great small ones.” 



Jun 27

All You Need is Balls. Balls is All You Need.


I was walking my dog the other day. We walked past a couple of kids out for a walk with their attractive young nanny. My dog loves kids, so he walked up to say hi. He loves attractive young nannies even more, so he buried his face in her crotch and began furiously humping her leg. The kids thought it was hilarious as he almost knocked her off her feet with his clumsy pawing and thrusting.

As the laughter subsided one of the kids asked-

Kid-“hey mister, there is something wrong with your dog, what are those big fuzzy things between his legs?”

Me-“Theres nothing wrong with him, those are his balls young man.”

Kid- “What do they do? the kid asked.”

Me- “Whatever they want kid. Thats what they do.”

Kid-But I have a dog, why doesn’t he have balls?

Me- Well kid, it’s not my place to have this discussion with you, your parents should sit you down and explain these things. Maybe I shouldn’t tell you this, But your parents paid someone money to chop his balls off.

Kid-What?!?!  You’re lying mister. Why would they do that?

Me- You’re parents aren’t evil kid. They’re just scared. When people get scared they will do anything to feel safe. The balls are often the first thing to go. Your parents aren’t bad people, at least not worse than most.  It’s normal kid.  Its human nature I think, we try to take shortcuts and manipulate the world to meet our needs at any cost. Even if it means sexually mutilating our best friends. ”

The kid started to cry as I walked away. For a brief moment I felt bad, so went back to try to smooth things over and offer the child a few words of encouragement.

Me- Whats your dogs name kid? I asked gently.


Kid- “Buddy” he managed to spit out through his pathetic sobbing..


Me- “See kid your mom and dad thought Buddys balls were going to be a problem. They thought he would be a wild, horny, uncontrollable, headache, but the problem was never buddys balls.  Your parents are the real problem.  Your parents lacked the balls to deal with him as he was. So they took the easy way out and sliced em off. And guess what, You are next. If you don’t watch out kid they will do it to you too.


Kid-“My mom and dad are gonna chop off my balls?”

Me- Yes they are. Parents have a tendency to do that because they love you.   If you let them, they will slice em right off. They are going to try to take them from you because they think it will keep you safe. It won’t . There is no such thing as safe in this world. Its a wish we all have, for things to safe, clean, and easy. Thats a fairy tale.  Life is hard, dirty, and dangerous. But thats a good thing kid. Thats the fun of it, as long as you have some balls.

Its not just your mom and dad either. Its everyone. Teachers, principals, bosses, doctors, school, work every single cultural imposition is after you to try and take your balls away from you.  You see kid, society can only function by castrating its members.  It works for some, but it does not care about you or me. Society is selfish. It only cares about itself.  Some just jump in line with their pants around their ankles, some get bullied into line after years of pushing and shoving they simply give in, and a select few will jump out of line and choose to keep them no matter what. Your dog had no choice. You do.  You can get in line and sacrifice your balls or you can get out of line and grow a set.

Hemingway put it this way-“

“Forget all the fancy crap: courage–dignity–regret; cojones, that’s all you need to die right. Cojones.”

Kid-“Who’s Hemingway, and what are cojones?”

Me- “Cojones are balls and Hemingway was famous for 2 things,  writing books and having big cojones. I never really read much of his stuff, but I know that if you quote him once in a while,  people think you’re cool and smart so I know just enough to get by, like that one, but I think you need a good amount of brains too. Some people are all brains and no balls. Some are all balls and no brains. You need an abundance of both or you’re gonna be at the mercy of one or the other.   You don’t want that, mercy is for the weak. Some are repulsed by balls and some can’t get enough of em. My dog might not be allowed in certain dog parks because his energy produced by his balls can make some dogs too nervous and others too excited. It can cause chaos in an otherwise predictable environment, so certain places are off limits for him. But thats ok kid. He is true to himself and that is where his happiness comes from, not from the approval of lesser dogs that have been “fixed”.  Nothing in him needs fixing.”

Kid- “How is anyone gonna see my balls mister? I wear pants.”

Me- “Jesus kid, its a metaphor. You haven’t figured that out by now.   Im not talking about testicles. Anyone can have testicles. Nobody will see them, but everybody will feel them.  You don’t need testicles to have balls, hell you don’t even have to be a man. I know chicks with more balls than you will ever have. Maybe you should go put on a skirt.”

Kid-“I don’t want to wear a skirt.”

Me-“Thats what I like to hear kid. It takes balls to say what you want and dont want. Thats a good first step. So we know you dont want to wear a skirt, now what do you want?”

Kid- I”m not sure, im only 5.”

Me- “Big deal. You might not make it to 6 so you better figure out what you want right now and go after it. Figure out what you’re passionate about and pursue it with your balls firmly in your hands and don’t let anyone touch em.  Protect them like your life depends on it, because it does. You better know how to fight. You’re gonna have to fight to keep em.  You better learn Jiu Jitsu.”

Kid-“What is Jiu Jitsu?”

“Me- Its everything man, but the way I like to think of it is the way it was described the creator.”

“It is a way of transforming pussies into men, chickens into stallions.”

“You want to become a stallion kid. Stallions have balls. ”

“Does that make sense kid? Are you gonna stop crying now?”

Kid- “ok, but i feel bad for Buddy.”

“It doesn’t do Buddy any good for you to feel bad for him. Thats not going to grow him a set of balls. The best thing you could do would be grow your own.”

Thats all the advice I have for now kid. If you want to become a stallion, learn jiu jitsu, kick more ass, and get more ass I can help you. You need to subscribe to my email list kid. I’ll give you free videos and newsletters that will put hair on your chest.





Jun 13

I Hope You Hate Yourself After You Read This-How narcissism can benefit the everyone

I received some disturbing news today. I took a personality test and it turns out I am a narcissist. I scored higher for narcissistic personality disorder than 97.9% of the population. I found this troubling to say the least. That means there are 2.1% out there above me.  I simply do not understand how it is possible that there could be so many people out there that are better than me at being better than everyone else.

From what I hear, narcissism is generally looked at as an undesirable character trait by most people, but who cares. I generally do not care what most people think.  In my humble self-absorbed opinion, the world would be a much better place with a lot more of the few and a lot less of the “most people” that seem to have a problem with what the few are doing.

The self help industrial complex will tell you that you can’t love anyone else until you love yourself and you can’t help anyone else until you have your own problems squared away. So in my estimation if we want the world to be a better place we should all strive to be as narcissistic as possible and worry first about loving yourself before even considering the feelings of anyone else. It is our only hope.

These days I practice a lot of self love. Almost everyday and sometimes twice if I feel enterprising, but I did not always love myself.  It took a lot of hard work to reach this point and it takes even harder work to maintain it.

By now you are probably asking yourself how you can become as self-serving as me. The short answer is that before you can love yourself you have to hate yourself more than anything. Not the kind of self loathing spawned from oppressive religion and cultural ideals. You simply need to identify the parts of you that you find detestable in others(you will be horrified at first by how awful you are).

You have to hate your weaknesses and shortcomings and obliterate them. As an example, I will use the person I revere the most as an example,  I was an enormous fat person for a good part of my life. Accepting that got me no where. No matter how hard I tried to deal with it and work around it, I still hated it. My hate reached critical mass around the same time I did at about 330 lbs, so I changed, but it was the bitter hatred of my old self that facilitated the change.

I  picked a fight and got beat up when I was 14. I hated knowing that I couldn’t fight so much that I decided something had to be done about it, so I began the lifelong study of martial arts. When I began training I sucked. I hated sucking. I was consumed with that hatred of sucking until I became great. If you hate yourself now, and I hope you do, be thankful because you are well on your way to rejoicing in the untapped excellence waiting on the other side.

Have you ever heard the phrase “The world does not revolve around you”? Well it does. It revolves around me too despite what most people want us to believe.  I still have occasional moments of weakness when I become more concerned with things outside of my control and influence, but there aren’t many and they don’t last that long anymore. Making the world a better place for everyone begins with making your world better first. Run to a mirror and take a long hard look at yourself.


PS- When I started training Jiu Jitsu I hated not being good and I hate seeing people struggle, so I started this service to help others with their Jiu Jitsu problems. Click the image below and enter your email if you hate sucking at Jiu Jitsu too…


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May 27

Little Kids Say The Funniest Things…And Sometimes They Are Real Assholes

My dog and I spent memorial day lying on a picnic table under a tree.  As the sun went down, I was contemplating the meaning of life, when a kid came up and asked me about my ears. More specifically what is known in the martial arts world as Cauliflower ear. Children have a way of speaking their minds that I love. They lack the filter most of us grown ups develop over time in a desperate attempt to fit in safely with the herd.  This absence of filtration creates a beautifully innocent honesty.  When children ask me honest questions I like to reward them honest answers, so this is how it went down…

Kid– “hey mister, why do your ears look so funny?”

Me– “Kid, all ears look funny, but there is nothing funny about my ears, my ears might look different from yours but that is no laughing matter”

Kid-“Why do they look different?”


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“I’ll tell you why kid,  my ears look different from yours because I am different from you…Im better than you.  I earned my ears while you just sit there  content with the ears your mommy gave you. Mine are the product of hard work and dedication to something I love. What do you know about that? Nothing, thats what.

These ears are an example of the frail nature and impermanence of the physical form we find ourselves imprisoned in right now. Nothing lasts forever kid, especially not the fragile existence we experience in these flimsy bags of blood and bone, so you better use  what you have while you still can.

These ears taught me the value of being able to endure pain in order to get what I want, but I wouldn’t expect someone like you to understand that.

My ears taught me something a long time ago that you will soon learn. You will learn that your mommy cant fix everything. Sometimes, in fact most times, when you get fucked up she, nor anyone else can or will help you. Your ears are your responsibility and nobody else’s, and it is equally important to know that you are not responsible for anyones ears but your own.

These gnarly ears taught me that it is ok to look different from everyone else,  to be different from everyone else, and in fact  that makes you way better than everyone else.  Feel my ears kid and then feel yours, and notice that mine are hard and strong while yours are soft and weak,  just like you. My ears are proof that it is better to be hard than to be soft. You are going to have to learn that one the hard way.

These ears taught me to persevere through pain and injury and not to listen to other people when they say ” maybe you should take it easy” or ” you need to take some time off”.  You just sit there, soft, clueless, helpless, waiting for things to be done for you. These ears taught me that you cant just sit around waiting for things to get better and a lot of time there is no getting better, all you can do is learn to make the most of the reality you are presented with.  I was once like you kid, I rode a big wheel, watched cartoons in my pajamas, my mom wiped my ass, and people showed compassion and concern when I cried, I did what I was told, and the only questions I asked were dumb questions like the one you asked me.

Just like you, I was a soft, weak, pathetic, helpless child. I know how it feels to be like you and it does not feel good. I was the same as you, but then I found something I loved to do and I tried to get good at it and I didn’t quit no matter how fucked up my ears got and no matter how many dumb kids made fun of me for it. My ears are a like the rings of a giant redwood tree that has been cut down, they tell a story that can not simply be put into words.  Now, do you want to know the 2 most important lessons I learned from having “funny” looking ears, as you so rudely put it kid?


Me -“Chicks dig em and sometimes, little kids are assholes”

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May 13

Bruce Lee Was Full Of Shit

Bruce Lee once advised us all to be “like water”, to be formless, and to be an expert at reacting to attacks and obstacles. That sounds cool, but there are a few problems with that way of thinking. Water on its own is kind of helpless.  Without any outside influence, it kinda just sits there.  Water is a purely reactive element. It cannot do anything for itself.  In an attempt to clarify his point he also said “put water in a cup, it becomes the cup” showing that water has the ability to assume the form of its surroundings, with no clearly defined form, water is able to mold itself in order to fit in to any situation. This same quality in a human is a form of sociopathy. Without a conscience and having no firm sense of ethics or morals, a sociopath is able to do whatever it takes to blend in by mimicking others, but having no substance behind it. Bruce offers great advice for an actor, but not so much for anyone else.


Although to many Bruce Lee is thought of as the greatest martial artist ever, there is no record of him doing much other than pretending to fight people in movies, and while that is cool, I do not necessarily want to put to much stock into advice given by someone that makes a living by pretending to do stuff. I prefer reality. The late Bruce Lee had some cool ideas, but the even later Roman Emperor Marcus Aurelius looked to the opposing element for inspiration in life when he said-

“The blazing fire makes flames and brightness out of everything thrown into it.”

Unlike the purely reactive, lazy, and co dependent nature of water, fire is a fiercely Gung Ho force that uses anything that gets in its way as fuel to grow bigger, stronger, brighter, and more intense. This goes hand in hand with the most common principle of all martial arts, using an opponents strength and aggression against them. Every lesson learned in the martial arts somehow translates into everyday life.  Marcus Aurelius knew this was not just a strategy for ruling empires and waging war, but a way to approach life in general. Nothing is in your way, nothing is stopping you from doing what you want, and there is no need to fit into any cup. Every hardship is a chance to get harder and every hurdle in your way is a chance for you to jump higher.


Both Bruce and Marcus were great philosophers, but when I look to figures from the past for wisdom and inspiration, I put more faith in the words of the man that ruled an empire than those of a man whose greatest award was 1st place at the 1958 Hong Kong Cha Cha dance competition.

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The choice is yours, you can sit around waiting for things to get out of your way, go with the flow,  dribble, drip, and ooze your way through life or you can attack everything in your way and use it to get stronger. You can be water and be bottled up, consumed, and pissed out only to repeat the same pathetic process all over again or you can burn so bright and intense that there is nothing in the universe that even come close to containing you.


You can start your fire right now by clicking on these words you are reading


Now go do Jiu Jitsu









Feb 25


When I am alone

I think of only one thing

How to break your arms


Feb 03


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This past weekend, I attended UFC 169. It was a chance for me to attend a live MMA event without the pressure of competing or cornering a fighter. I have been backstage and in the cage many more times than I have been in the stands with the civilians, but even as a spectator there was a battle to be waged. It is the same battle fought in movie theaters, airplanes, operas, lectures, and anywhere else that you need to dominate your environment in a seated position.


Being backstage getting ready to fight among a group of other animals waiting to experience the ultimate glory of victory or the excruciating pain of defeat can get pretty tense. However, in a room full of alpha dudes there is an unspoken agreement to be cool.  Even though we might be trying to kill each others hopes and dreams in a few minutes, we understand that we are all in this thing together. It all gets worked out in the fight, so there is no need to be an asshole before or after. Things are much different out in the crowd among the proletariat, beer drinking mouth breathers. If you can make your way through the treacherous and infinite ocean of form fitting bedazzled tribal skull t-shirts gently clinging to the man tits of the average MMA fan and find your seat, the fight for dominance begins.


For every 2 people seated there is only 1 set of armrests. It is not so bad in the aisle seats, but on the interior, resources are scarce.  This means that the value of  elbow real estate is at a premium.  This is not a time for negotiations or diplomacy. More than at any other time in your life, this is a time for pure dominance through aggressive action to claim your territory and demonstrate your status as the alpha of the group. If you do not establish elbow dominance early on in the night you can expect to spend your evening in an uncomfortable, timid, and humiliating posture trying desperately to choke back the tears as they stream down your cheeks and into your shitty nachos.


Here is a list of different opponents you may encounter in the battle for elbow room in tight seating situations and how to handle them.

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Children are easy to push around. They are much smaller, weaker, and extremely easy to outsmart. They have not yet earned the right to rest their arms, usually a stern look will get the job done.



They are usually with a guy, and should be coiled tightly around his arm and rubbing up against his leg leaving you with an open lane to comfort city, but if she has the audacity to use your armrest, it will require an equally bold move to take it from her. Lace your arm through hers and take her by the hand. If she pulls away, the armrest is yours. If on the other hand she does not offer resistance to this move and accepts your greasy palm in hers, your night just got a whole lot better.



This one is tricky. Any obese person worth his or her salt should have their arms humorously resting on their bulging breadbasket with fingers interlocked leaving you with some room for your arm, but occasionally the body spills over onto the armrest leaving you with no choice but to use them as a resting place for your elbow. This is fully acceptable, as one of the main benefits of being overweight is built in armrests, therefore they have no need for yours.



In gorilla and chimp populations, the alpha is the biggest in the group. He gets all the food, all the girls, and does whatever he wants. He pushes other smaller gorillas around and has no problem getting physical with them and stealing their lunch money. All lower status male  primates in the group bow down before him, and all the women in his harem offer kisses on the hand and present their bulbous swollen genitals for his pleasure.  Any attempt to usurp his position is met with swift and brutal violent aggression. Humans are no different in my experience. If you run into someone that seems bigger, stronger, and tougher than you, you have two choices, either accept your role as the beta or throw caution to the wind and challenge the status of the alpha. I wish I could offer more advice against an opponent like this, but I have yet to come across one.


Below are some examples of our cousins getting it done. Watch and learn



Jan 26

“My pain is constant and sharp”

Every morning, I wake up in pain. I have been in a good amount of pain for the better part of the last 20 years. Since I first stepped on the mat as a young man, I have woke up to the blissful soreness that is the result of physical combat. The short term thrills of being on both the giving and receiving ends of  countless beat downs, choke outs, take downs, throws and tap outs leads to longterm discomfort. At first the pain can be tough to deal with, but if you stick with it, the pain lessens slightly as your body gets used to it. If you dedicate yourself to the training,  eventually you grow so used to the feeling, that you almost look forward to it every morning, and if the aches are not there to greet you when you wake,  you wonder if you did enough the day before.


Discomfort becomes a source of comfort. This is not some sort of perverse fusion of pleasure  pain. This is not like the guy that wants to be tied to a  wall with a car battery wired to clamps buzzing and burning his nipples while a hefty leather clad woman kicks, stomps, and manually mashes his testicles while hissing insults in his ear. And its not like the woman who wants to be blindfolded and gagged crawling around on the floor while being whipped, paddled, and spanked. Its nothing like that. It is simple proof of hard work.


Over the last several years, I have sprained and strained every part of my body that can be sprained or strained. I have had my fair share of concussions, a handful of broken fingers and toes, facial lacerations and stitches, my nose has been broken more times than I can remember. For better or worse, my face has been rearranged a few times, I have been through the pain of surgery and recovery, and the psychological pain of loss and setbacks.


According to the internet, on his death bed Leonardo Da Vinci said, “As a well spent day brings happy sleep, so life well used brings happy death.”    So although my back is tight and it takes me a good 2 minutes to stand up straight sometimes, my knees ache and I could probably use about 7 different surgeries at any given time, this sort of pain that is the result of doing what I love to do is nothing compared to the pain I would be in if I had quit at any point along the way.





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