slice like a ninja, cut like a razor blade

In a last ditch effort to rebuild myself I have exiled to Siberia. I’m more like a lurker until July 4. I’ve realized I’ve got to do what I do to make myself happy. There’s a dichotomy here. I am happy eating whatachickin’s with mustard, onions and jalapenos. I’m happy pounding Cokes and Extreme Sour Patch Kids. But… I’m not happy with the subsequent Incredibly Fat Hulk body. I’m healthy but I’m not healthy. For the first time in a long time this is more about the end result than it is about the gauntlet. Besides Ric and Mark are in the stratosphere, Jim and Tim are not too far behind, Neck is caterwauling, Ken has old school hand, Five-O rides like 200 miles a week, Steve likes waxing that ass (same with the rest of the BC crew like Zak, Berg, Micro, Lt. Dan and so on…) and the Worm, well the Worm will never race again after the Georgia series . No longer does Clark Kent have an evil nemesis. No longer does the Red Dragon need to make claims of this and that. This is me alone on a frozen tundra working it out. No promises but I hope to come back healthier.
K Dub

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