02142016
  Valentine's Day was rad.
   Did breakfast at JamBones in Sturgis. I had the chicken fried steak and eggs and a side of biscuits and gravy. The biscuits and gravy were awfully good.
  Sweet and flaky with just one the right amount of sausage and the right amount of gravy.
   My love chose the ham and grits. With a side of red beans and rice.
   It's a Cajun restaurant. The theme there is Louisiana and so it's filled with Mardigra paraphernalia. Walls covered in beads and masks. And a bunch of hanging instruments like trumpets and other horns. As well as an accordion.
    Most of the tables full, they sat us at a community table that is very big. Like one at thanksgiving. Ten seats.
   There was a couple at one end.
   And us on the other. Later, more were sat with us. It was cool.
    It's just how it went down.
   We went to a few stores and made our way home.
   I made some spare ribs for dinner. I started smoking them around 2 pm. And we didn't finish them till 6. So everything was supper tender cause I smoked the hell out of those lil suckers. Here's a picture.

They came tasty as fuck. Along with them, we ordered two bowls of that red beans and rice and made some coleslaw. Damn terrific.
  I'm a huge Walking Dead Fan. On AMC. I love that stuff. Probably my favorite show on tv of all time. It's not for everyone.
  If you hate it, I don't understand why. 
   But I've heard it before.
  I've been watching it since the beginning almost religiously. This season is down right the best season hands down.
   It's our family night. Usually I make a rad dinner and then we watch it together and discuss it afterwards during The Talking Dead with Chris Hardwick.
   So about 8 months ago our tattoo shop made a bunch of commercials introducing our artists and my commercial aired during the season premiere of The Walking Fucking Dead. And that's the picture on top up there of the commercial.
   So yea. I'm having a great day.
   Life is great man. I hope you are having a great day too man.
  I dunno what you do on Walking Dead Day. But these are how mine tend to go. They're always a little different. But they are generally pretty good.
  Good night.

02152016
I ran across the profile of my friend Dave today.
It had been a long time since I seen him. The last time I had seen him he was tattooing in Las Vegas and I had made a long trip to meet up with him.
We all packed up a car and took a drive from Tucson.
He was working for a guy who owned a tattoo shop just off the strip. I remember being told that the guy owned a few exotic pets. Like a couple tigers and an ape or something.
Pretty cool.
He was staying in this apartment. It was an average apartment with a couple of nice rooms.
I had to wait for him to get off at midnight and of course we had to wait even longer. By the time we get to his place, it's got to be closer to two in the morning.
And I'm on this stupid mission that I'm going to tattoo him. It's like almost three and we begin.
He keeps stopping me to take a break like every half hour. And the breaks take about ten or more minutes.
It was funny to me how I knew what he was doing and so while he was doing so, I also was doing so in the kitchen.
We were both getting super dooper high away from each other. Being sneaky or selfish.
I'm not sure.
Not wanting to share for whatever the reason was.
So I have my glass pipe. And it's loaded. And it's around 5:30 in the morning and he wants another break.
So finally. I'm like, " Hey dude, I know what you're doing back there. While your back there doing it. I'm up here doing it. Why don't we get high together and finish this thing. Jajajajaja."
He is like. "You first".
So I pull out my shit and I had like an eight ball and show him my pipe. And he laughs a little.
It's like we were boys all over again.
He says my pipe is small.
I tell him that it's portable.
He brings out his killer. It's a water bong that we smoked meth out of.
The rest of the moment is a blur.
It went by with a lot of talk. A lot of history.
Before we met that night we had not seen each other in like three years. We had a lot left on the table.
I'm really not sure how it went down. I don't remember what was said. All I remember is an empty feeling and a sour memory of things on my way home.
I am not sure even if the tattoo looked good at all. I do remember having some issues with my machines.
I'm not making any excuses. We were lit. We were tattooing through the night in a kitchen. Not in the tattoo shop.
Oh Dave, we were kids learning our places as adults.
I was thinking back then you were on your way to waking up dead from some overdose or worse.
Over the years, I've looked you up and wondered what happened to you. Especially since I cleaned up and started making my amends in life.
I was happy to run across his profile today and to see that he had found a way in life with less anx and depression. He did not look angry.
He plays guitar in a metal Christian band. He has some kids and has been married for several years. And I'm truly happy for him.
I was happy to see him.
He was once a close brother to me. Seen me go through a few things and I saw him go through some things as well.
You see, once you're my bro, you are always a bro. Even if we don't talk. Even if we left bad. I will still think about you in our separation. Years later.
It's kind of one of my blessings. It's sometimes one of my downfalls. A character defect.
But once we are pals. I never let go.
I don't know how it works with me. Or why it works like that. It's just how it goes.
I left him a message. I hope he answers it sometime. It would be nice to catch up with him while things are good.
Maybe a visit with out the obligation to tattoo would be in order.
Good night.

02162016
   Tonight I go to bed wondering what the fuck I'm doing here.
  I loathe the feeling of self despair. I'm over filled with it. I'm so full that I'm covered in it. I can not swallow any more of it. It is spewing from my neck.
   I don't know what it's- ...
   Wait maybe I can explain for some of you.
   Have you ever played a sport? You have practiced and practiced and done the same play over and over again.
   Maybe you practiced to hit home runs or practiced to three point a basketball. Or maybe it was goaling a soccer ball or spiking a volleyball. Maybe you practiced a triple axel on an ice rink. Or not.
   But your chance to do any of those came, and you did no such thing. You are sweating your actions and the dominos just keep falling. And every next opportunity given is another failed option passed.
   There is no way to curve back on course. You're too far from the path now.
  Perhaps you never played sports. I get that.
   Maybe that's why you're reading or writing here.
   You're driving your car. And something happens to your radio. So you look down and reach for the knob or push a button or whatever.
   You were looking down but a second. And you veered of the road a few degrees and over corrected. Now your back end is sliding back and forth and you keep turning the wheel trying to straighten out.
   But instead. You're sliding in a ditch and messing everything up. And there isn't a way for you to come out with out having to repair a lot of shit.
    Today, and only here will I admit this.
   I'm a fuck up. I feel like shit.
  I did not kill anyone. Thank God. But I will be staring out at the ceiling tonight thinking about how I performed today.
   Like a singer, who forgot the words to his own song. I forgot how to do a simple huge tattoo.
   I did some shitty work today.
   They didn't know it was shitty.
   I did though.
   I don't remember when it happened. I remember that two hours went by and I didn't even realize it. I was chopping away at a short sleeve and I had a couple hours to get it done. I went way over my limit.
   I have done these elements before. All of them. Wolf. Tree silhouettes. River with moon reflection. Stars and moon.
   I had done them all. But today, I did them all together like I had been tattooing a year. Not twenty.
    The wolf looked alright. It was the main subject. And then I did a fantastic job of lazy background art.
   I didn't know what he was quoted.
  He was quoted 5-600 dollars.
   It cost him 5.
   I was being nice. And then he tipped me another hundred bucks. Makes me feel even more like a dick.
   I'm human, man. 
   What can I say?
   I do good tattoos. I always try my best. I always give my all.
   It only took one mistake. And the walls came crashing in. And then your best can become your worst real quick.
   No more free hand work from me for awhile. Everything will be thought out and mapped before hand till I get back on track.
   This defeat will not go forgotten.
   I will learn from the feelings of this day and try again tomorrow. I hate going to bed feeling like this.
   I know that real people trust me to give them good work. And that they are trusting in me to do what I say I can do.
   Regaining confidence is hard to do.
   Today, if you ever played sports. You know the feeling of losing the game.
   If you were ever a driver who lost control of your vehicle, you know the feeling all to well.
   I must make repairs.
   I lost control.
   It's like that. I feel like dick.
I can only hope for more time and that he is okay with me touching this up next time. If there is a next time.
    Good night.

02172016
I don't know how it happens.
How do you go from killer days to a filler daze. It's like the moment hasn't passed. And you're waiting for it to go by and lose it in the rear view.
But it does not.
Things do not make it better.
The cheeriest words from friends do not close the door to the dark room you're passing through.
You're clumping together every positive quote that you can find online with every possible achievement you've ever made. And hope to god that one of them is the spell that you whisper to yourself which magically elevates you over this dark fucking cloud that seems to follow you through every doorway. Every room. Everywhere outside that seems to have some sunlight.
This dark stormy cloud keeps shooting bolts of lightning and rumbling and pissing all over every place you step.
Nothing is exciting.
Nothing takes measure even when the black has darker shades of black. I never thought there was such a thing. But it just gets darker.
I'm revving my motor. I stab the accelerator with lead foot. But it seems sluggish. It seems the wheels are spinning, but I'm waiting for the wheels to catch.
It's like I'm an empty bow. Being pulled back with no arrow. A dry shot for the sake of seeing if you have the power to pull it and letting go.
The food you taste is bland. Even if you know it isn't.
Soda isn't sweet enough.
Your dog looks at you sideways and walks away. Even he knows you will not pet him the same way as when you do when you're having those brighter days.
It's honestly as though I have brought home with me a demon who waves people away from me. Putting around me this bi-polar magnetic field that pushes me away. Like anti-matter.
A demon. Yes.
A fucking little bastard crawling around with me in my shadow. Just slipping magic dust over delicious plates and sweet drinks corrupting their flavor.
Whispering dark hatred into my ear over every experience in my day. Shit talking every event of the day. Spitting hatred into my ear, corrupting every thought, diminishing all hope.
Turning me with pointed fingers.
Twisting all perception into the depths.
Throwing me into the depths of the rut.
The flat of my high pipe with no momentum to even keep me rolling.
I can not understand the way out.
It's not easy to shake this clingy little fucker. This spirit will not leave me.
Two days now.
The tunnel did not look that deep.
I just keep pushing through. I keep moving forward.
I keep my eyes on the light. I know eventually it will all pass. It always does.
The longest I felt this way was years.
Now that I'm clean, the longest I've felt this way was a couple weeks.
I cannot do a couple weeks this year.
I cannot afford it. Every client that I cross gives me only one chance. I have to get going.
I have to pass this layer of tracks.
I have to get through this without having to make amends. Without having to feel sorry for them or myself.
Shake the demon that depresses me.
Lose him before the grip is so strong that it hurts every aspect of my life.
I hope you never feel this way.
I hope you do not know this feeling that I'm dealing with over the last few days.
It just sucks.
Good night.

2182016
  Denah Mia. 3rd Birthday.
  (Din-nay)
Oh my God, this little is so tough on me.
   She's a cutie for sure.
   But I have had to steal every kiss I can from her. She is my grandchild. And she is just like her mamma at that age.
   Yep. Sometimes she likes me.
   Sometimes she doesn't.
   We buy her all the coolest stuff. And she appears to love it.
  She knows when we show up that there is going to be rad presents and she knows because we always have something  cool for her.
    Today when we showed up she wanted to get out of the pool to see what it was.
    But when I went to go get that hug and kiss, she ran back to her daddy in the pool.
    I do not like babies.
    I do not like toddlers.
    When I really like know dis is when they are about 4 and a half.  That's when they start to try and figure things out. Or how things work. Or how to interact with people.
   Maybe they are figuring all that out as they go. But I think that's the level of mentality that I can get with.
    Although I'm trying the whole time.
   I'm hoping she comes around sooner.
    When she is happy to see me just because. Because I am grandpa.
     My daughter Sky has come a long ways. She knows that I'm not trying to buy love. That I'm truly a giver.
   That's why I do not have a lot. Jajajajaja. I'm really a giver.
    Within reason of course.
    If I have it to give. I generally will give it. That's just how I am.
    Sky and I are still a little strained with our relationship. I am not really as close as I want to be. But it's more. A lot more than it used to be.
    I easily remember our first days reunited when we would get alone together and just make weird faces at each other and dumb small talk that never went anywhere. It was tough.
    We would do stuff together with her mom. They were like supervised visits without the court order. We would do all the different tourist traps here in the black hills.
   And then Tristan came along and made things even more interesting with my kids.
   My son Brody was like, are there anymore?
    Any more what?
    "Anymore kids I do not know about?!" And I had to laugh a little.
     Yep. One more that you haven't met yet son. Your big brother.
     I haven't always been the dad I am today. Brody remembers the harder days. I'm sure he wishes he could forget.
     He's watched me struggle getting to know my daughters and I'm sure he doesn't know what to feel about my situation other than he doesn't ever want to be in it.
   I'm sorry for writing so lazily lately. I've been kind of low. I'm trying to make a move upward but I've been taking a few hits lately.
    Today was my grand babies day. Wen I looked into the eyes of Dinah I knew something had changed with in me. Something indeed.
   I could look into her eyes and see my blood. Her moms blood. And my fathers blood. All the generations into a new model human.
   And then the hopes and dreams of that little girl. I hoped that she would make better choices in life than I and her mother and my father.
    But after meeting my father I realized that some things you can not change. Like DNA.
    Like rubbing your toes together when you're totally relaxed and bare footed. Like all the low brow looks and the raised eyebrow expressions. Like restless feet and rhythms that cause you to tap your foot subconsciously.
    Some things are transcended through you. Your kids will do what your father does. And there is nothing that can change that. It is in your DNA.
    It's how it goes.
    Like being nocturnal in your twenties     That's a thing man. All my kids are.
    Wether they want to be or not, they would rather sleep through the sunlit day.
    And when Denah is old enough, I'm sure we will see it in her as well.  
   It's funny how that works.
   Same ugly toes. No butts and big chests. The want for long hair.
   Not liking our ears.
    My ears wiggle. I use them to move back like a cat when pissed. Then my eyebrows lower. It tightens my face. 
    So does my dads.
    So does Denah's.
    And I would bet even yours. If we are blood.
   Good night.

02192016
The shop was loud and obnoxious today. The pace was quick.
I walked in today and it seemed like even though it was 9:30, that it was going to slow down at all. And it didn't.
My bosses were grappling with the glass cases. Evidently the lights were falling out of them from people leaning all their weight and pushing the lights out of the corners. Apparently one had fallen from its place.
From then on the hour and a half before went quickly before we opened. We cleaned up a big messes and got to it.
As soon as everything kicked off, and mostly all of us were starting tattoos, my boss had scheduled a commercial shoot for my apprentice. Introducing him to the public is important because we want all of us to be busy. And helping him advance helps us all advance.
Just another dude on our roster.
Tats were left and right. People making appointments like crazy. My to do pile is heavy.
I will have to start going into work earlier and drawing the days appointments as they drop. There is no way for me to keep up any other way.
I've been in some weird depression lately but it seems that I'm accelerating up and out pretty quickly.
I have to. There's no time for me to be a little cry baby. I have to keep moving.
So it's early to bed for me.
Do yourself a favor man. Find your way.
Find something you love and stick to it like a fat boy loves cake. Do it everyday. Do it till it makes you money. Do it till that money makes you a living. Keep at it.
Stay driven.
Don't forget to do it for yourself so you don't ever have to work a day in your life. Ever.
Be you.
Don't get stuck in some dead end cubicle hating every day waiting for the year to go by so you can finally get that vacation.
You are worth way more than that.
Good Night my friend.

02202016
   Awe yeah!
  Another weekend has come and here I begin another Walking Dead weekend itinerary.
   Going to make dog food.
   Going to make dinner.
   Going to watch the walking dead.
  And probably in that order.
    Thinking about watching the DeadPool Movie and I guess after that, I will be going back to work.
   It's really hard for me to understand how my life got so blatantly boring. I don't mean to put a negative tone to boring. But it is quite comfortable.
   I work. I weekend. Make money. Pay bills. It's wild for me to think that this far in my life, I mean, with all this life experience, that it would end on an even keel.
   I'm not saying it's over. But I am saying, damn. Pretty monotonous for what I expected in my early twenties.
   I didn't even think I would be alive honestly.
    In my early twenties I thought I would have overdosed or something. God knows that was what I tried to do.
    I worked through a tough week my friends. I've struggled through a few dark shadows and busted myself through the clouded ceiling.  I feel as though I'm drained.
  I do not have a lot for you today.
   But I wrote what I could.
  I hope you are over coming your demons as well. That you have many things to be grateful for.
    I read that people are talking about this Radish App.
   I am not going to it. I will stay here and complete my year promise to myself to dedicate one year of good or bad writing to Mark.
   I hope he is reading this from time to time. It all started because of him. The writing.
   If nothing else, I will have written something. That is all.
  Good night.