Where To Begin?
After losing a week of memory to the accident and waking up in the ICU with pain in every inch of my body, I’ve spent these past days learning how to be myself again — slowly, deliberately, stubbornly. Now I wait for the moment I can go home, rebuild my strength, and eventually throw a leg over Aurora once more. The road back is uncertain, but marching into the unknown is what I do.
The Toll For The Road Less Travelled
As I sit in my wheelchair, caught between boredom and a one-sided texting war with someone I thought was a friend, I find myself still looking forward to tomorrow. The world is testing me in every direction right now, but I’m stubbornly optimistic that the day after tomorrow will be amazing. Maybe this accident was a cosmic cleansing — a toll paid to take the road less traveled.
Somewhere Between Betrayal and Gratitude
Healing is a strange place — especially when gratitude and betrayal collide within hours of each other. This is what it feels like to navigate pain, loyalty, and the unexpected sting of exploitation on the blackest of Fridays. Some people show you love; others reveal themselves. Either way, you learn who belongs at your table.
Thanksgiving Blessing
Five weeks after the crash that shattered bones, stole a piece of my face, and nearly took my life, I find myself overflowing with something unexpected: gratitude. From holding my blood-stained helmet for the first time to witnessing overwhelming kindness from family, friends, and my former team, this Thanksgiving feels like a lesson in love, survival, and grace.
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.
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.
We Are Not The Same
One ride. One crash. One picture that lit a fire.
I don’t want to be your ally. I don’t want to be your therapist. I already came out, did the work, and live it every day. Don’t text me a photo of you playing pretend and expect applause. We are not the same.
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.
Maybe You’re Not as Tough as You Think
People today act tougher than reality should allow. Social media and the safety of steel car doors have given cowards the confidence to run their mouths like they’re Bruce Lee or Clint Eastwood, despite bodies that couldn’t back up a single word. I see it most on the road — like the frail woman who flipped me off and screamed from the safety of her SUV, convinced she was invincible. We’ve created a chickenshit society that hides behind cops, cars, and comment sections, where people mistake barking for bravery and think they can write checks their bodies can’t cash.
Hollywood Lies: Volume II
Hollywood calls it “entertainment.” I call it propaganda. From self-surgery as a badge of honor to cars that explode at the slightest nudge, from gymnastic gunfights to hackers who break into the Pentagon in 14 seconds — the myths keep coming. And people believe them. These aren’t harmless movie tropes; they shape how we think, vote, and talk about the world. Here are five more ways Hollywood is full of shit — and why it matters more than you think.
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.
Cold on Cold on Cold
I’ve seen fifty-five below in Minnesota winters, but I’ve never been as cold as I was that day riding north from El Paso. Spiderwebs of pain crawling through my thighs, trash bag under a sweatshirt, stopping every thirty minutes just to warm up — cold on cold on cold. And when I finally thawed out? I still got back on the bike that night. Because the cold doesn’t change the truth. I ride. That’s who I am. That’s what I do.
We’re Just Trying To Pee
America has a problem. A big problem. A huge — pronounced YOU-dge — problem. Politicians spin it, pundits sensationalize it, and suddenly transgender people needing to pee is treated like the nation’s biggest crisis. I’m not an activist. I’m not out here waving signs on the street. I’m just trying to live my life. But when the laws, the headlines, and the mobs all turn something as basic as a bathroom into a battleground, it’s time to pick up the pen — because we’re simply trying to pee.
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.
Liberty On Trial
A Nogales man was sentenced to 32 months in prison for pointing a gun at a Border Patrol agent — on his own land. Court records show the agent drew first, aiming at the man’s pit bull. The homeowner reacted exactly how the Founders envisioned when they wrote the Second Amendment. For that, he’s headed to prison. Liberty itself is on trial.
One Week In
After more than five years working from home, I walked back into the office. Day one, rookie mistake: no lunch. My boss asked if I liked spicy food. Minutes later I was sweating through a cup of ghost pepper noodles, stubbornly slurping the broth he told me not to drink. And I’d do it again.
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.