The No No No Life

I have been driving with no License for 7 years now, and I have no plans on getting it back.  I have been driving with no car insurance for just as long, and also have no plans in getting myself into that scam as well.  I raise my middle finger to the world as I ride my black horse into the distance on the trail unpaved, untouched, and what some call "the not right trail".  I lay in the dark, hidden from the world as I take a bite from my apple, while watching the white sheep march in a straight line like jail birds walking from cell to work yard.  I am free, I am me, I am happy.  I am my own boss, I have no boss.  A shirtless lifestyle as I drive with a smile on my face, with stacks and stacks of cash rolled in a rubber band in my trunk, like I just robbed a bank.  Zero in the bank so "they" can’t trace me, my trunk makes it impossible for "them" to tell me anything. Why do people feel the urge to tell me how to live my life?  Why?  I never asked them for their advice or help, so why give it to me.  Why judge me?  I think it makes them feel better about themselves as they lay their head down at night.  They don't show their emotions in weightlifting because they were told not to.  They can’t slam the bar because the old people get mad.  They don't smoke cigarettes because they were told it effects their lifting.  I am not saying you need to do what I do, just don't judge me or tell me to roll my fucken windows up while I am pumping the AC in MY car.....not yours.  

I don't stretch, never have.  I personally believe that stretching causes more injury.  I take only hot baths never cold baths.  I should add I have no scientific backing on this, but fuck it, it works for me. The last time I did an ab workout was a decade ago. I eat fast food daily because I love it. A college drop out that seems to make people uneasy for some strange reason, like any day they are waiting for me to go back and finish.  Maybe that's what I am supposed to do....I really have no idea. I choose the dark shade and my little village I call my wife and dog.  I love life, I love my wife, I love my dog, and I love weightlifting.  These are just some examples of the ongoing scrutiny that I am attacked with on a daily basis.  Vicodin and coffee seem to blanket the pain at nights, as I write to you while tears sometime slowly drip down my face onto the key board.  I am the happiest sad guy you have ever met.  My supporters like yourself is the only thing that keeps me going, without you, without this blog, I would be back home in Oregon at a motel six trying to bum a light.

2 time American Silver medalist......I want Gold this year. Win Gold, and then get ready for the 2013 season. I want Attitude Nation tattooed across my for head. Now that sounds like a brilliant idea.  I am fully committed to this weightlifting galaxy.  This body has many more years of winning left in it. Then when I retire from competing as a senior, I will become the best master’s lifter the world has ever seen.  I have told coach many times, "I might not win every meet, but I will always be there like an annoying Mosquito".

I miss you Shankle, Shankle? Can you hear me?  Are you out there? I hope you are doing well and training hard for the Pan Am Championships my friend.  I am still your biggest fan even though we are best of team mates.  I promise you I will be on the World team with you next year; I am sorry for abandoning you on this year’s international meet. Two years in a row traveling the world with you, and this year I guess I will stay back and watch the home base while you drink the blood of other lifters.  I take a drink of coffee for you; I will train hard for you, and wait for you. 

God Bless America.  God Bless The Attitude Nation, and God Bless Donny Fucken Shankle.  Salute.

American Open 2016