Throughout my short stint of building cars I’ve tried to build something different, something that pleased me and my style. I’ve come to find out doing something different, is not easy but rewarding nonetheless. Building the car that I am now happy with has introduced me to the largest, group of awesome people around. Although the my car isn’t done and probably never will be I took this as my chance to thank the amazing group of people who have helped me along the way. So here we go

My dad for all the help fabricating, hard work, time, effort, and for putting up with my stubborn ass
My mom and sister for supporting me and nudging me to do it the way I want
Brian for his blunt way of supporting me in my supra ventures, and for being my best friend
Odom for all the great talks and good times, and helping me tinker
Emad for all his help with computer troubles and for always being available
Chris (VIP king) for all the long talks about rims and fitment and being different
Eric and Sam for the late night hours, and missed classes in order to get my car painted
AJ for all the time and effort on making custom emblems and center caps for my car
Driftmotion for being such a good company even offering to take a part off of their own car in order to get my turbo to me quicker
Specialized coatings for the beautiful work on my wheels

Everyone on this list is now my good friend, and I truly appreciate each and every one of you.

Thank you.


i love people. I have a huge heart. I trust too easily. I love my supra. I love diet snapple and diet coke. I have the worlds worst eyes. i love guns. I try to find the best in everyone. I don’t judge. I love learning. I love teaching. I love my country. I’m a big softy. i care too much about the small things in life. i get taken advantage of and know it, but still let it happen. i treasure all forms of music. I hate arrowhead water. Coffee doesn’t keep me awake at night. I have never broken a bone. i give homeless people money to buy beer. I love apple. i have big ears. I read books. I am afraid of being late. I am not religious. I love unconditionally. I have never been to a concert. I can speak german. I have been shot at. I have been in love with someone who couldn’t care less about me. I have only had 2 jobs. I love the beach, but never go. I love the smell of baby powder. I have never said sorry and not truly meant it. I have helped stop someone from committing suicide. I have never stolen. Anything. I will give you the shirt off my back, literally. I love ketchup. I don’t dance, I boogey. Im a sucker for a blonde. I have only lived in one house. I will never be perfect. I have never been so drunk I don’t remember what happen the night before. I cant rub my stomach and my head at the same time. I can not make the Vulcan salute. I have never hit a woman. I have spray painted one of my eyes black. I have witnessed a person pass away. I love Yoshi, with all my heart. i have been offered marriage for my last name. I still bite my nails. My feet fidget when I get nervous. I am very observant. I have bald spots. I hate hospitals. I know who I am. I have never been to jail. I don’t talk to my family enough. Ive been bullied for being fat and skinny. I don’t know what I’m afraid of. I have never been in the back of a police car. I have never had a hangover. I started smoking at 17. I have flipped a car. I have short legs, and short arms. I don’t care what you think. I have flaws. Take me or leave me, but once you leave, you cant get me back.

My big red nose

That lovely schedule of getting up at 730, working 9-5, coming home enjoying dinner, sitting down to read a book before bed; and heres where my contrary reality sets in. 10-6, yea thats PM to AM if my use of contrary didn’t give it away. My lovely work schedule leaves me doing all the right things, at the wrong times. Getting off of work, to the humdrum, exasperated drive home, is something i should be looking forward to, but dealing with the assholes in 405 traffic doesn’t make my morning something I’m left “hopping around in my boots” for. My uncouth work schedule ends the same way every morning; me sitting in my bed eating a small meal trying to find something on tv gripping enough to fall asleep to that doesn’t involve the quotes “you are the father” or “jerry!” usually used in the same episode. Im left skimming the movie channels usually finding something with some sustenance.

A few mornings ago I tripped upon the movie Patch Adams, starring the most beautifully hairy actor you’ll ever see, Mr Robbin Williams. Being one of my favorite films, ill give you my own Roger Ebert (may he rest in peace) review without giving anything away. The film involves Hunter (Patch) Adams, a entry level medical student who feels that patients should be treated as people, instead of room numbers. His struggles from other doctors giving him shit about his absurd methods of patient care are predominately what the film is about. Im normally left shedding a tear or two by around half way through. Yes i said it, i do have a heart, at least i know when that tear jerker part is coming up so i can abruptly make my way back to finding out if Darrel is the father or not. Needless to say, the movie leaves me with a great feeling about how being different is a beautiful thing. Alright, time to ruin the film.

The first thing drawing me to the film was a part where Patch is introduced to a group of cancer patients, all under the age of 10. Noticing the dull feeling in the room, patch scurries around to find a piece of medical equipment; a bright red, tennis ball shaped object, forgive me for not knowing its medical pronunciation or use. He grabs a scalpel, makes a 3 inch incision down one side, and begins to place it on his nose. Yep, he is now a clown with a white doctors coat on. With his clown nose and a smile, he makes his way around the room, joking with the kids, attaching bed pans to his feet, disposing the obtuse aura in the room with one of laughter and smiles. The movie centers on this idea of creating a joyous feeling in the people who normally inhabit a place that is filled with pain and sorrow. It even leads him to putting a lady of her 90’s in a swimming pool full of noodles, because her favorite thing in life was squishing her grandmothers spaghetti noodles, after she got done cooking them.

This film has taught me so many wonderful things. The quote pulled from my intro “Every small interaction with a person is a chance to positively impact both of your lives” describes something i try to practice in my own life. It is something that is so true, its scary. Im reminded of a few years back, to the wonderfully divine woman who worked the drive thru at Carls Jr. A group of friends and i would always meet up after work at the same parking lot, where we would chat and reminisce about the good times. Carls Jr being only a stones throw away, would be the spot we would get our midnight snack or drink from. Being Mr Nice guy, id always volunteer to run through the drive thru and grab everyones orders. Id pull into the drive thru, always be polite, respectful and address her as ma’am; blame the beautiful parents that raised me for this. Now frequenting the joint, we both came to recognize each others voice over the raspy loudspeaker. Id order and pull forward grab my food and bid her farewell, until that one night. It was summer, the line crowded with kids, getting their drunk tank full, or curbing their most recent attack of the munchies. I pulled up the the stale white neon sign full of burgers. I instantly knew it was her as soon as the speaker shouted “how can i help you?”. But that particular night there was something melancholy about the sound of her voice. I continued my usual schedule of respect, and began my drive to receive my goodies. Arriving at the window, her melancholy state was very apparent by the look in her face. Mr Nice guy kicked in and I inquired as to what was wrong. She began to fall apart. In her distress, she began to explain to me about the late night crowd and how they treated her. Rude kids, who disrespected her, like she was just a loudspeaker at the drive thru. Her voice changed tones as she began to tell me something I will never forget. “You are one of the only people who is polite, and who treats me with any sort of respect, thank you so much for always being so kind”. Remembering almost every detail of this story, makes me ponder as to why I can’t remember my response. I’m sure it was somewhere along the line of oh no problem, or something nonchalant in nature. But what I do remember, is it touched me enough to walk in to the store that night and give her a hug. At the time I knew I had touched someone, I knew I had made somebody smile. What was hard for me to understand was why. I was just doing what I was raised to do, following the cliche quote we’ve all heard about treating people the way you’d like to be treated. I was young and was doing what I was raised to do. I’m reminded of a quote from my dad ” it’s easy to be nice, you have to try to be an asshole”. Although I’ve had people argue its definition with me constantly, I truly feel it is indeed easier to be nice, and hard to be cruel. Don’t get me wrong, a lot of people make it look damn easy to be cruel, but in the end what does it accomplish.

As I sit here and reminisce about the situation stated above, I contemplate about what it has taught me. Common sense would state that what i was doing was helping her, giving her faith in the fact that there are good people left in this world, but common sense was wrong. This beautiful woman, named Lachelle was helping me. I feel in this world, that to truly grasp something you have to be reminded why you do it. When my parents taught me to treat people a certain way, it was only just a set of rules that id follow because i trusted their words. But Lachelle made me truly understand, that being the one person who was different, who recognized somebody as a person instead of a object, was a truly beautiful thing. It was one of those ass kick moments i speak so much of. The ones that you need to remember and grow from. A interaction as minuscule as treating another person with respect and dignity can truly uplift them, along with uplifting yourself. Sharing this story with you is not my courageous attempt to send you out to change the world. It is my subtle reminder that every morning when you wake up, dress up. Because in the end you never know how many beautiful people can positively effect your life, when you put on a red clown nose.


I stood alone on the verge of 22
I can not doubt, I was left unsure
I guarded my emotions when I should have let them breathe
I untied the knot in my chest and released
Tears of joy, years of pain, tears of fucking peace
There was a bird in my heart that never got to sing
My heart will see me through
I don’t need a crutch nor excuse
We’re all searching for something, we’re searching for love
Regardless of the form we want to bask in the sun
I made mountains out of my worries
And I’d plant pain instead of sturdy trees
I felt as lonely as a preachers wife
I was lower than dirt underneath my fingernails
I was a snake never shedding its scales
I used to hate the person I was
Tangled up in the widows web
The more I struggled the tighter the web would get
I was screaming for help outside of the school for the deaf
It’s okay to feel lost, it just means you’re alive
I told myself a thousand times.
It’s okay to feel lost, walk through the flames and see,
You’re only left with what you need.
Because the things that haunt you are the things you didn’t do
Not what you did
Follow your bliss printed across my arm
I know I got it tattooed for a reason.
Im just learning how to make it hold true
At least I’m feeling more alive
But I still have some old weight that I’ve got to shed
Before I find true happiness
I’ve got to lose it all if I want anything
I’ve got to lose it all if I want to be free
I’ve climbed out of the hole that I was digging
Threw out all the blue prints I drew up for the safe house
There is a passion that awoke in me
The fire to learn, the courage to see
An unexamined life isn’t worth living
Trust what’s in your heart and keep searching
We’re only here for the journey
I’ve got something to say
About the last 24 months I’ve lived
I’m not the same kid I was when I was younger
I’ve decided to start living
Cause my life was passing me by
Im not afraid
To stumble and weep
I will enjoy the journey
Even when its steep
The mountains teach me
to rise up and reach
Enjoy the journey
even when you are weak
Passion pushes the urge
Your love of life determines what you’re worth
I’ve spent so much of my time trying to see
That the past can’t be your passion
This life is part of a struggle
Searching for balance and truth in the rubble
The devil, the sinner, the saint
They’re all in our blood
But we must choose the path that we walk on
The answer that you seek
Always right at your feet
The cave I was afraid to enter holds the treasures I seek
Fuck what you know
Fuck what you believe
I am the architect of my destiny
There is no pain in my body
There’s only peace
When i look in the mirror
I am proud of what I see
When I look in the mirror
I am better than the person I thought I’d be
All that I am was meant to be

Blissful Thinking


Well this will be a long one folks. After seeing a few examples, and discussing with close family members, i have decided that i should write about some recent observations. I’m extremely sick  in regards to how our culture has drastically changed. I base this feeling what I have seen or experienced personally.

So back in the olden days, I’d say from the early 1930′s up until the 1990′s there was a distinct way people publically conducted themselves which is long lost on most of my generation.

Sitting at a Starbucks, reading a new book and conversing with an old friend, i noticed a young couple, I’d say around 22, sitting three tables up. The suitor, a typical male of my generation was enjoying his coffee and eating a sandwich while his girlfriend was sitting in front of him with nothing. I will never forget the look on her face. She looked  disgusted with what was happening, although i don’t know that disgust is the proper word. She had that kind of unhappy look in her eyes where you know the situation you’re in is lousy, but you can’t find the strength to do anything about it.

I’m sure your sitting there wondering how the hell i got that from her face, but when you have been in that situation, it’s just a look you come to understand. Now wondering why she was sitting there without anything in front of her led me to assume that she’s either finished, or just didn’t want anything. However, given his attitude towards her, it seemed as though he wasn’t allowing her to have anything.

Things escalated when he began barking orders at her. i heard “Go get me a refill now, or your walking home”. At this point I’m trying to bottle up the urge to throw my motorcycle helmet at the guy, i thought instead about what saying something to him would accomplish. My gut reaction would be to stand up and say something to the nature of “hey man don’t disrespect your woman like that,” but after thinking about it, only 2 situations could arise from me doing this. First an argument would arise, and  I’d be in jail for kicking his ass, or he’d shrug it off and make her pay for it later. Neither sounded like they would go in her favor, so I kept my mouth shut.

Most people would probably disagree with my saying that i believe there are three parties at fault; the guy, his parents or absence of parents, and the girl for staying with him.

Reflecting on the scene, the first thing that comes to mind is the reaction my family would have if i were to do something like that. First, my mom would hire my dad to shoot me. Second, my grandmother would hire my grandfather to shoot me. All four would say the exact same thing: “i raised you better than that”.

From everything I have witnessed, kids are indeed raising kids. The amount of 20 year-olds and younger who have 1 or 2 children is rising drastically. This wouldn’t be such an issue forty years ago when people were having complete families by the age of 23. While that may be true, the circumstances of the time were much different.

In the early 70′s the transition to adulthood was marked by 5 milestones: completing school, leaving home, becoming financially independent, getting married, and having children. Notice the order of those. The last things are getting married and having children. Why is my generation reversing this order? I try to tend to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, but it’s hard to do  when people only think with their genitals and not with their heads.

I do not have children, but i feel i have a decent knowledge of what’s entailed in having a child. I just went to  and used their “How much will your child cost you” calculator. The 4 questions asked were your geographical location, single parent, household income, and how old is your child or are you trying to conceive. I entered west coast, single parent, $60,000 a year, and trying to conceive. My total cost of raising a child to the age of 18 is $418,500.

For some reason that number seems low, but this calculator was made a few years ago so it may not be up-to-date. I’m going to round up for argument sake. $500,000 is a lot of money. I’m sure if you ask any parent who has raised a child to adulthood the amount they perceived to spend, and the amount they actually spent, differ drastically. The expense of a child is stressful, and even more stressful on one income, which is what a lot of people and myself are trying to accomplish.

Seeing these numbers, why would one try to have a child when they haven’t completed school, or have a steady source of income? Hell, who is going to think of how much money a kid costs when they are laying down with somebody at a party? Being raised to understand these things does not appear to be common practice when parent’s dole out the “birds and the bees” talk.

The paradox seems to be that treating a woman like shit is the way to get one to stick around. I think about my grandma a woman with poise, strength, and respect for herself. She is a strong willed, beautiful individual who won’t put up with your shit. I love it. If grandma has a problem, you’re going to know. Now if my grandpa tried pulling some shit like the guy at Starbucks, he’d last around 10 seconds or be ripped to shreds.

Where has this type of thinking gone? You have women who are staying with guys who treat them like hell. A few of my past relationships ended in me alone, and my ex heading back to the guy that treated her like shit. I’ve tried to figure this out, and come to realize that somewhere down the line there is a person who has made them this way. Someone has tainted their self-respect, their self-honor. You aren’t born with the feeling of being worthless.

I bet it’s hard when someone close to you such as a significant other, or parent has made you to feel worthless. Shitty parenting has horrible, long term effects, on both men and women. And from experience, pulling yourself out of such a deep trench is no easy task. It angers me to see that such beautiful people can’t find it in themselves to accept nothing but the best. No matter how beautiful the person, no matter how much you see it, they have to find it on their own. True worth comes from the inside. No person can make you feel worthy. When you do, your significant other will reciprocate those feelings. In the end it doesn’t matter because you know who you are. They will only make you feel better about yourself, and further instill the things you found on your own. That’s the job of a significant other, to appreciate what you are and supplement it.

The old days of Chivalry may not be completely gone in our culture, but their days are numbered. There are people in this world who know how to treat a woman. I was flabbergasted once by an ex who once told me that she doesn’t like to be walked to her car or when i hold the door open for her. What the hell? Come to find out, the reason is because nobody had ever done it for her. That’s what we’ve come to? Women who feel awkward when a door gets held open for them? It truly bothers me, down to my core that most men do not do such things and it actually confuses women when they are done. It sucks that the prerequisites a woman holds for a man can’t even include holding a door open. If he can’t do such a simple task, i’d love to see how he introduces himself to her parents. If my dad heard me tell the father of a girl i intended to date, “What’s up bro?” I’d be the new emblem on the front of his Scion. Not to mention, I would expect her father to do the same thing. My mom tells me that she feels bad for boys when i have a daughter because my AR15 is going to be cleaned way too many times during my daughter’s teen years. Damn right it is.

I guess my whole goal of this was to show you how our culture is going from people having common decency and common sense to having zero expectations and tons of entitlement, but rereading through this make me think it was about being smart, and being yourself. If you’re not the norm anymore (such as being chivalrous) who cares, as long as you know what you’re doing is right. Follow your heart in every situation you encounter because it will always steer you in the right direction. If you are unhappy, change it no matter how hard it may be. Do not take anything you do not deserve from anyone. Treat people with respect. Make educated decisions, not stupid mistakes. And most important of all, Follow Your Bliss.

Two wheels on the ground, or one wheel facing the sky


Coming from 2 muscle head parents ive always been brought up watching Nascar every sunday, attending the yearly race in Fontana, attending the NHRA winternationals, and Supercross. My first real love for something with two wheels, came when i was, id say 7. I still remember it like it was yesterday, my dads Neon red CRF250. Id beg him, up and down, every damn day to take me around the block. When it happened, id never want him to stop. At the time i really had no idea what it was about motorcycles that attracted me, but hell i enjoyed it that was enough. Few years later asked my dad to show me how to ride, took me out to the desert and with a small lesson on how to use the clutch, and how to shift it out of neutral and back in, along with a quote ill never forget “get on it and figure it out and OH! dont forget there are 2 types of riders, ones that have been down, and ones that are going down” he sent me on my way.

My desert motorcycle riding experience has lasted throughout my whole teenage life until now. Funny thing is, being a desert dweller, id never guess that id own, or be interested in a street bike. But here comes my best friend down the street on his new street bike. That bastard. I convinced him to let me take her around the block, and yea me never owning a street bike took a abrupt turn.

My first street bike love came way of a horrendously loud, snappy, chattering noise from my neighbors driveway across the way. Hearing this noise i run outside, walk across the street, and begin to try to roll my tongue back in my mouth. Staring me in my face was a Ducati Monster. It was drop dead gorgeous, it reminded me of that woman you want so badly but if you touched her horrible things would happen to you; yea it was that pretty. I had to have one. Telling my mother damn near gave her a heart attack, and my dad had to throw his smart 2 cents out by telling me that pavement hurts alot more than dirt, but it didn’t stop me. God bless my dad for letting me use his Harley to suffice my motorcycle urge, while i did everything for the money to get me a ducati.

Around a year later ended up picking up a 2001 Ducati Monster 900 SIE from craigslist. Bike was beautiful, and hand built from the guy i purchased it from. Damn near everything was one off, or a rare part, which makes things wonderful thinking it may be on the ground half destroyed at some point in its life. After owning the bike for nearly 2 years, i find it funny how i look at street bikes now. There is something about that damn motorcycle, The people who haven’t owned one will never understand. Its one of those things that cant really be explained. Im going to try my best, but i doubt i will give it what its due. I have not found anything else in this world where when my minds in a bind, i can do to calm the time. I can have a completely shit day, where nothing is going right, I’m frustrated, tired, and angry. My motorcycle provides something that makes those feeling disappear. Who would of thought, a 2 wheeled machine with a engine, can completely change the outlook on someones life.

I sit here and ponder about the full tank of gas she has, and how today is Sunday so i can run her up to the canyon and get some time in. Oh lord i think its time to go throw on my leathers. . . .

Way To Cope Champ


Something i find interesting is the thought process behind finding strength to accomplish something. In our society today the majority of people feel that everything should be given to them. Its all about who can do this for me, who can give me this, who can provide me with this. It pisses me off because our world is slowly becoming more and more materialistic. Working for something presents a sense of pride and accomplishment. My dad has taught me since an early age that nothing in this life is free, and that if you want something you have to go and work your ass off for it. Show initiative, be the one to do whatever it is possible to become the best you can.

Nowadays i try to put myself in other peoples shoes, try to look at everyones perspective. What ive come to realize is that every person you meet is fighting a battle. Someones parents are in the hospital about to pass away, somebody has 5 dollars in their bank account that has to last them and their kids the rest of the week because they just paid their mortgage. The thing i find most interesting is how people cope with this. Ive personally seen a exorbitant amount of coping mechanisms; people completely hide it from everyone, confide in freinds and relatives, abuse drugs and alcohol, cut themselves, brand themselves, abuse animals, abuse their children and wives, and the craziest thing Ive experienced, someone who was trying to see his intestines because he felt the pain would take his problems away. These are things i have experienced personally! I cant even imagine the amount of hideous, grotesque things people do to themselves when they are in bad way or situation.

With the way i operate i would try to help these people, as i got stuck with that cliche “nice guy syndrome” where i think anyone can be helped as long as you put in the correct amount of effort to do so. Previous relationships have proved me all wrong with this, but due to more recent circumstances, it just jumped up and bit me in the ass. No matter who you are, no matter what you do, you cannot help a person who does not want to be helped. Forcing, well no, not forcing but, initiating someone to change their life that has no intent in doing so can have horrible consequences. Initiating someone to change their life can turn a normal, sane person into a irritable beast. it can make someone completely change their way of life just so they can “hide” what they are doing. It can turn honest people into liars, cheats or thieves. Don’t get me wrong, i am not sitting here saying that if you feel your being forced to do something, your automatically going to turn into some devil child. As stated above people perceive and handle situations differently. A song by the band We Came As Romans will end my rant and further seal the deal on how You cant make decisions for someone else

Warning, the song is beautiful, but if you dont like hardcore/screaming, the musical aspect may not tickle your fancy

We Came As Romans – I Cant Make Your Decisions For You

I’ve led a horse to water
But he turned and ran as soon as I turned my back
It seems as if the way here
Wore worse on me than it did on him

I feel like my words have only given way
To brief intentions but no intent for action
I’ve waited, I’ve asked, I’ve hoped
For you to show me I’ve thought wrong

Prove to me that I’ve thought wrong
And it will fill me further than being right
I wish you’d prove to me that you want to
Live life as much as I want you to

I swear my hopes are selfless in this
I only want you to feel whole
I swear my hopes are selfless in this
I only want you to feel whole
But I can’t make your decisions for you
But I can’t make your decisions for you

I feel like my words have only given way
To brief intentions but no intent for action
I’ve waited, I’ve asked
I’ve hoped for you to show me I’ve though wrong

I’ve led a horse to water
But he turned and ran as soon as I turned my back
It seems as if the way here
Wore worse on me than it did on him

I can’t make your decisions for you
I can only be a guide
I can’t make your decisions for you
I can only encourage action

I hope that my words have only given way
To real intentions with pure intent for action
I’ve waited, I’ve asked, I’ve hoped
Now show me that I’ve thought wrong

Moral for the day? Have faith in someone to find the strength and the will to change, don’t force, the only person who can change themselves or their situation, is in fact, themselves.

The Horsepower Gene


Today while tinkering away under the hood of my car a neighbor briskly walked up to me as if something were wrong. “Man whats wrong with this thing now?”, “Dont you get tired of working on it?” For some reason people always seem to find the best time to interrupt me while im minding my own pleasure. The time when im right on the brink of something, or so frustrated that stopping for ten seconds to bullshit with a neighbor will pull me out of the funk im in. But id say 1/2 of the time its the latter. Look, if you’ve ever owned a older car you know just as well as i that shit breaks. Things happen that are out of your control. My car has 260,000 miles on it, something is bound to need repair. ive come to realize cars are like school, some people got it, some people dont. The beauty of that, is i know i got it.

Coming from a background of parents who utterly love all racing forms and whom also met at a race track, leads one to believe that i inherited the horsepower gene. My more refined thought process leads me to believe, that my parents had some help. Cars have shown me wonderful things, taught me wonderful things, and most importantly introduced me to the largest group of beautiful people on this planet. Not beautiful because of looks, or because of what particular car they tend to obsess over, but beautiful because of heart, because of passion. Passion in the dictionary is defined as follows: Strong and barely controllable emotion. The dictionary is a wonderful way of seeing what a word means, but actually experiencing it proves much more profitable. Thoroughly discussed with my mother, the meaning of the word passion is best laid out, and easier to understand with the way she quotes it. This quote will live with me until the day i die; “Davey passion is all about finding the one thing that makes you smile when you get up in the morning.” Luckily, the list of things that make me smile in the morning is larger than one. But at this moment in time, that one thing is cars.

The barrage of quotes my neighbors tend to give me only provides me with, for lack of a better term, ammo to help instill the fact that my passion is correct. Cars provide a humbling get away to relieve stress and tension, along with accomplishing a goal. Since the age of 20 there has not been a week that goes by, that the supra has not kicked my ass or taught me a lesson in one form or another. The amount of knowledge, skill, pride, and sense of accomplishment is something that i don’t really feel could be achieved through anything else. Coming in with hands full of cuts, bruises, and blood has given me fuel to my never ending fire.

As i touched on previously, cars have also put me in a great position to meet tremendous people. i was 18 years old, young, stupid, caught in a ridiculous rut, and in all honesty hanging out with a group of people that were no good. A man, to whom i now can truly call my best friend, and to whom i will bond and grow with for the rest of my life, and his car, changed my life. Such a simple thing, that one day jumped up and bit me in the ass. My calling card. Life’s way of telling me to do something different. All this from a man and a car.

i share this with you, not to just inform you on one of my passions, or how it came about, but to show you, that in life when something jumps up and bites you in the ass, remember why it did. Remember the people who were a part of it. Try to remember how it made you feel. In this world there is a reason behind everything. Take advantage in finding that reason. So many people go through their lives, waking up every morning with nothing to smile about. Whats your reason? When you do find it, cherish it, put it in front of everything, because at the end of the day, in your heart you know, that the juice is worth the squeeze. Alright alright i know that tail end part of that last sentence is a quote from the 2004 film “The girl next door” but damn did Emile Hirsche’s character Mattew Kidman nail it.

Find your passion!