I will be 77 shortly. I've lived longer than my relatives did in their time, and I'm grateful.

My old body is still in pretty good shape, considering the way I abuse it. I've been talking to younger folks lately that have all sorts of shit going on. I've only had two surgeries, a hernia op and a crushed ankle with eight screws. Both of which were self inflicted.

I ain't got no cancer or any serious illness. My doctor CJ is amazed, she's looked at all of my blood work and said there ain't nutin.

So, WTF? How did this happen? My older brother Dana died last year in a mental institution. I keep joking about checking into a nursing home but I love my freedom. I can do whatever the hell I want to.

And the things I do are for the most part legal! I love helping people in need, in fact I've given more cash to a couple of local homeless guys than I've made driving the tubing bus this Summer.

I consider myself a good man! I wish I had a woman in my life, but I don't, and I accept that. My love life lives on memories, unfortunately.

I finally swept my floors today. Next project is to scrub down my kitchen and bathroom. It's hard to be motivated when you live alone, but I've been having company lately.

New bruises keep popping up on my body, but according to Daniel these are also self inflicted. I just don't remember putting them there. I've got a beauty on my back, but I can't really see it.