Nearly a year since I touched this with myself with a blog...

Why does it ask me to label the post with "scooters" or "vacation"? It seems a little off.

The topic of this post is mortality.

A few days ago, my friend Will smashed his motorcycle into the back of my car while we were going on a camping adventure (by camping adventure I mean beer, fire, and swear words). At the moment his bike hit the only thought I had was, "Oh shit, he's dead."

Luckily we weren't robbing a bank, so this didn't happen...



In my life this is luckily a thought that I haven't had go through my head to often. Usually I waste my time splitting my thoughts between regretting my current dead beat husband status, what would happen if Wolverine was a Jedi, and what to eat.



Will was alright, a touch bruised and broken, but spitting and swearing like he'd failed his MCAT and was going to be pumping gas forever...

That didn't change the thoughts that have been going through my head the last few days. What do I need to do now to solidify my place just in case the metaphorical motorcycle ride of my life does and unplanned backflip over some yuppies hummer?

Am I doing the right thing trying to go to medical school and become a doctor? It's 10 years away at the least and I could do a faceplant tomorrow with very little to show for it.

The more I tried to think about it, the more my brain spiraled into the thinking I've wasted breath and time in my life. Then, my thankful inner voice rallied in the bottom of the ninth, reminding me, "Fuck it be Happy." If I go, I go, mortality, I challenge you to a dual with pistols in about a 127 years.



Thoughts on Mortality

I got tests to take,
I've got people to love,
and babies to make,
I've got a job to do,
Words to write,
people to screw,
and rock songs to slam dance to...
I've got awkward moments,
and friends to piss off,
Truck stop toilets to piss on,
and an environment left to soil,
Cats to outlive,
a gut to lose,
physicals where I turn and cough,
cars to wreck,
football to watch,
videogames to play,
laps to run,
forest fires to set,
beers to drink,
red wine to savor,
and cigars to victoriously puffs,
a fear of heights to overcome,
then cliffs to leap off,
Carnival rides to avoid,
old friends to lose touch with,
and run into,
when I move to a new city,
12000 miles away
I got a long fucking way to go,
and if it all ended now,
keep going,
and leave me belly up
in the road...



Ok, so I promise, no more depth and I will update soon with some estute observation, new profane story, or porn of me and a horse.

Bob Fantastic.