How Many Times Have I Laughed to Myself While Thinking:

I’m never writing a book about this.

I can’t believe everything that’s happened. Forget everyone I know; I can’t even keep track of all the wild events that are strung together to form my life. If I had a penny for every time someone told me I need to write a book about my life, I’d have gone out and bought myself a nice meal off the dollar menu.

It would be so cool to write a book, but as of yet I still can’t get my chronology right. I remember the crazy stories; so who says I have to string them all together and stack them between two covers? I am not and have never been a fundamental rule follower, so let’s make like rebels and do this differently: let’s roll through this life story out of order, in pieces, and see if YOU can string them together. Maybe you can’t; fine. I think each story in itself should be entertaining enough.

To cover my bases, names have been changed. I am NOT declaring this autobiographical because my memory fails me from time to time. It’s a lot to remember. I’ll add a story a week and let the anecdotes stack themselves. Ok. Let’s GO.


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