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.
Distractions
We are fucking distracted, all the time. Phones, social media, twenty-four-hour outrage, and convenience engineered to keep us numb. We’ve built entire industries to compensate for our inattention, and then act surprised when manipulation becomes effortless. This isn’t accidental. It’s the system working exactly as designed.
I’m Still Here
I survived fractures, surgeries, lost teeth, missing memories, and a body that sometimes feels like it’s held together by stubbornness and hardware. Bureaucracy tried to wear me down. Pain tried to slow me. The road reminded me who the fuck I am. I’m still here, and I’m not done moving.
America Has a Freedom Problem (And We’re Yelling at the Wrong Things)
America has an anger problem. Not because we lack things to be angry about, but because we keep choosing the wrong ones.
Instead of confronting the slow erosion of individual liberty, we rage at abstractions: imaginary kings, trendy villains, and half-understood claims like “AI wastes water.” Meanwhile, the real machinery that limits freedom hums along quietly in the background, unchallenged and largely unnoticed.
This isn’t activism. It’s distraction.
It Goes Where I Go, Part II: The Soundtrack of a Lived Life
Music has always been the pulse of my life — from my dad’s old record cabinet to the roar of Judas Priest echoing through an arena. Somewhere along the way, my father’s house fell silent, but I can’t let that happen to me. I sing at the top of my lungs when I ride, because every note is a reminder that I’m still here — still breathing, still living, still loud.
It Goes Where I Go
People love to ask questions. Some are born of curiosity, some from awe — and some from pure, unfiltered stupidity. Like asking if I “rode in today” when I’m standing there in chaps, leather, and helmet hair. For me, riding isn’t a hobby; it’s oxygen. It’s the pulse under my skin. It’s what makes the world go silent and my soul come alive.
The Cost of Feeling Safe
We traded our liberty for a sense of comfort, and called it progress. The founders would call it surrender. From DUI checkpoints to border stops miles inland, the “land of the free” has become a nation policed by its own fears.
American Roulette
A cold morning ride, coffee with a colleague, and a breakfast date that turned into a protest invite — another reminder that dating in your fifties is American Roulette, and I’m better off riding solo.
Rolling Stops and Righteous Fools
Motorcyclists live in a world full of backseat drivers and badge-wielding experts who don’t know the first thing about the ride. Two stories, one truth: people love to police what they don’t understand — but sometimes, justice still rolls on two wheels.
Mickey Mouse and the Message Machine: How Hollywood Is Reshaping America
Hollywood isn’t just telling stories — it’s shaping how we think. From glorifying booze and workplace sex to rewriting gun laws and sanitizing police power, Tinseltown has become a propaganda machine that trades truth for entertainment. And we’ve swallowed it whole. Here’s my unapologetic takedown of ten of Hollywood’s biggest lies — and the dangerous myths we keep believing.
Three Times
Three times the universe decided to baptize me in rain on what was supposed to be my free day. Intern lunches, tattoo sessions, Harley rides, and sudden storms—it turned into a test of grit, irritation, and freedom all at once.
Libertarian… When It Fits My Narrative
The Libertarian Party should stand for liberty — but too often it’s a costume, worn by people who only care about being different. When even “libertarians” argue for limits on freedom, what’s left of the promise America was built on?
Both Parties Can Fuck All The Way Off
I’m not picking between Coke and Pepsi and pretending it’s revolutionary. I’m bringing my own damn flask.
Leeches of Liberty
Liberty was never about safety. It was about risk, ownership, failure—and the right to rise again. Somewhere along the way, we fucked it all up.