Me, Myself & I

I’ve been writing this blog for a few months now and I thought maybe it was a time to do a post more about my over flatulant self.

I used to work in a warehouse for a large retailer and had been with that company for ten years before giving my life to Uber. I had a good schedule and I made decent money–but I was miserable, like so many other people that I worked with up in that joint.

The thing that sucked about it the most, was the random drug tests. I’m a medical marijuana patient and I had to give that up for that job. I never got drug tested past the initial hiring phase, but it wasn’t worth the risk. The happy smoke helps me with some personal and medical problems, but don’t get it twisted homes, I enjoy its recreational purpouses–very much so.

When I got fired from that god-awful well paying job–them bitches a bit strict–I was actually relieved. The stress and anxiety of where the hell is money going to come from now soon slapped me across the face, but I was out that bitch–forced out, but out. I don’t care much for the company I worked for and have a few choice words for them, but it was stable reliable work and now I had to find different work.

You can reapply in six months.

Fuck that.

Well, if I can help it.

I had to get rid of my SUV because I couldn’t afford it anymore, unemployment was dicking me around, so I got a brand new bucket with better gas mileage.

And boom went the dynamite.

Smoking out with a friend (I started blazing again the very next day after losing my job), it hit me, try that Uber thing. It doesn’t pay all the bills, but it sure helps–and its fun–usually.

As an aspiring writer, I have enjoyed documenting some of my shenanigans behind the wheel. It keeps me practicing the craft when I’m boucing around from project to project. I also like to draw. I dreamed of a gig as a penciler in the comic biz growing up, but never serously persued it, dummy. I was rewriting a friends story into a comic book script and it turned out great, but I found myself longing to write more when it was over.

So I did just that. I started writing. I still doodle from time to time, as you can see on my Instagram.

I was born in 1980, so I’m at that point in my life where I’m not old just yet, but I’m not young either. I have three children; boy, girl, boy; 10, 8, 2. They make me feel old. When I conversate with the average person 10-15 years younger than me, I tend to lose all understanding on reality and feel senile. When the fuck did that happen?

I’ve been trying to get a job in the medical marijuana industry with zero experience. I like helping people–within reason. I am for the most part a private person in real life (unless you know me well, than God help you), but if I’m able to help someone, I will do the best of my ability to help that person. A legit weed job helping others safely obtain medical/recreational cannabis would bring me joy . That’s why I like driving for Uber, while I might not fully respect them as a company, I can make money helping others on my own terms.

Well, there you have it, a little bit about the weird guy behind this blog.

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