Shared post from
July 31, 2020

No Name

It was perfect yet it had no name. At not one that I could remember. It felt so perfect and folded perfectly just as it should. It went with me everywhere that summer, to the corn fields, to the park, and of course on my bed. It seemed magical and was a hand-me-down from my older brother. Stuff you get from your big brother is always magical, at least it was to me. I was the youngest and when your oldest brother gives you something, you treasure it. He was left handed like I was. I took good care of it to ensure its longevity. My hand felt amazing in it. We played 500 in the softball diamond and I remember making a catch for 100 points with this magical glove. The ball smacked the leather. There’s nothing like the sound of a baseball hitting the glove outside of a wooden bat cracking the same baseball. Nothing. It is a rite of passage. A summer sound.
It was perfect and yet had no name.

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Hello new followers, I hope I don’t disappoint you. I want this place to feel like home, where we can escape the Thunderdome and process the world. Where we can post dog pics and recipes and book recommendations. Where we support each other as we get sober, lose weight, embark on new business opportunities, creative endeavors, relationships and travels. I want this to be your oasis of sanity and laughter in an increasingly mad world. A creative outlet where you can share your spirit with us.

We might not have any control over the news cycle—but we can control our habits and attitude. It all starts with us. And hopefully a little piece of that will start here.

Unedited version of this week's #DumpsterFire is gonna be better than the edited imho. Well worth your five bucks just to hear my story of how I died of embarrassment at a dinner party.

About to shoot and it’s already...

...a #DumpsterFire

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