Stop Calling It An Accident
We use the word “accident” like an emotional airbag. It cushions the blow, softens accountability, and blurs the line between negligence and chance. But most of what we label accidental is entirely predictable, and preventable.
What Would You Say?
If I ever sat across from the woman who hit me, what would I say? I’m not sure I’d say anything at all. I think I’d just hand her the story and let her decide who she wants to be next.
Coverage Limits
There’s something uniquely brutal about watching your trauma converted into arithmetic. Brain bleed. Collapsed lung. Facial reconstruction. Months of recovery. And at the end of it all? Coverage limits. It isn’t justice. It’s math.
The Part I Can’t Remember Still Won’t Let Me Go
I don’t remember the accident. That’s the part that still eats at me. The details are gone, but the questions aren’t, and every new inference feels like reopening a wound that never fully closed.
Justice Before Sunrise
At 4:30 in the morning, I’m not chasing vengeance. I’m chasing a word this country was built on: justice. If someone can make a negligent U-turn, nearly kill a motorcyclist, and walk away without so much as a citation, what does that say about liberty? About accountability? About fairness?
I Have to Be at Work in the Morning
I have to be at work in the morning. I don’t have time to take a weekday off to remind legislators to get the hell off my Constitution. Yet somehow, I’m expected to defend my rights every single year from people who don’t understand them.
Two Tons of Inattention at Fifty Miles an Hour
This happens two to three times a day when I ride. Not once in a while, every day. Two tons of inattentive driving versus a human body, and the only reason I’m still here is because I ride like everyone else is trying to kill me.
Guardrails, Guns, and the Slow Death of Plain Speech
At some point we stopped arguing about policy and started padding reality. When algorithms decide which ideas are too dangerous to even discuss and legislators criminalize lawful behavior in the name of “safety”, the problem isn’t guns or technology. It’s that we’ve forgotten the difference between being civilized and being spineless.
Freedom Requires Responsibility (And Other Uncomfortable Truths)
We’ve reached a bizarre moment in American culture where saying freedom comes with responsibility is treated as cruelty, and expecting people not to shit on public sidewalks is somehow controversial. This isn’t about lacking compassion. It’s about refusing to lie to ourselves about personal agency, work, and the choices that shape a life. Responsibility isn’t oppression. It’s the price of dignity.
When the Fuck Did Everyone Get So Mad?
When the fuck did we get this mad? Every intersection has become a toddler tantrum wrapped in two tons of steel. People aren’t driving anymore, they’re piloting their feelings. And the cars, packed with sensors and safety nets, have quietly replaced responsibility with entitlement. The result? Rage, near-misses, and a society that’s forgotten how to fucking behave.
The Logic Failure
We’ve stopped blaming decisions and started blaming objects. Guns. Cars. Motorcycles. Anything except the person who actually made the choice. That isn’t compassion, it’s intellectual laziness. And it’s getting people killed.
Collateral Damage
One reckless U-turn destroyed my bike, my body, and my freedom—and the woman who caused it walked away with barely an inconvenience. Six weeks later, I’m still paying for her decision in flesh, bone, and stolen pieces of my life.
Hey Toddlers: Do Your Fucking Job
Twenty-two days into a government shutdown, Congress is still throwing tantrums instead of governing. If any of us handled our jobs this way, we’d be fired. But in D.C., failure pays — and the rest of the country foots the bill.
Stop Feeding The Animals
Panhandlers aren’t victims of circumstance — they’re beneficiaries of a system we created. You can’t get mad about wild animals in your yard when you’re the one feeding them.
We Used to Hang Horse Thieves. Now We Bill Them by the Hour.
Once upon a time, justice was swift. A horse thief caught with the horse? A gunman seen by the whole bar? The verdict wasn’t a two-season Netflix drama — it was a rope and a tree by sundown. Today, justice isn’t about truth; it’s about lawyers billing hours, juries awarding millions for potholes, and semantics drowning common sense.