Gimme some skin!

So, here we are again. Almost exactly 10 months post VSG. Also another year older. I turn 32 today.

This has been a crazy year. Since my last birthday I have had weight loss surgery, had a terrible car accident that resulted in 2 surgeries, and then emergency gall bladder surgery. Let's also not forget the 2 kidney stones I passed.

All that, and I'm still alive and kicking, and healthier than ever. My ankle is still recovering from the accident. I have good days and bad days. It is definitely still a little sore, but I'm getting around well enough.

I seem to have plateaued at 230 lbs on my weight loss, so it's time to either up the diet game or the exercise. I can bicycle with relatively low impact on my ankle, so I dusted off the old bike, and aired up the tires, and I'm about to start bicycling. Here is the latest before/after picture I have

All is good, right? Well, mostly.

It's time for a little good old fashion self deprecating humor.

Some of you might already be asking what happens to all that skin real estate when you drop almost half your body weight? It remains. In all it's former glory. What use to be mountains is now gelatin.

Sometimes while working around the house, the skin will just randomly clap. I have to stop and look around and wonder what the hell just made that clapping noise. Loose skin flailing about everywhere is about as wonderful as it sounds.

I have never had an ass (thanks dad). What ass I did have from being fat has been reduced what I can best describe is curtainous ass skin flaps where my ass cheeks use to be. Like drapes hanging from a window. My manboobs look like a 80 yr old african lady's tits from national geographic.

That's ok though! They can rebuild me. They have the technology.

It's a surgery called a "360 Body Lift". The name is unassuming, but it is about as brutal as you can imagine.

Basically, in layman terms they remove a large belt of skin from my mid section and pull the skin together and sew it up. It is completely around the body. Recovery time is about 4-6 weeks, during which I will have 6-7 drains placed and left in my abdomen. Sounds like a blast!

Not only will I need a "360 Body Lift", but also, a Mastoplexy! This is where they remove my manboobs (or the gelatin where they use to be). Most likely, both will be done at the same time.

The good news is that my accident covered my maximum out of pocket AND my deductible, so the surgery could cost very little if I have it done.

I have an appt with the Dr. on Wednesday. I don't want to jump the gun on the surgery. After all what good will this surgery do, if I continue to lose weight.

It's also about as invasive as you can possibly get, and I have had enough surgery for one year. However, it could cost little to nothing, so I'm considering it. Compression garments can only do so much.

A lot has happened over the last year, and a lot more could still be in the future. Only time will tell!

So, while I am very happy with my weight loss, the VSG was only the first step in what is about to be a pretty painful process. I'll update after the appointment.

BFL's Important Life Lessons Chapter 2

It's time for a new chapter in my Life Lessons.

Keep your chin up: No, really, keep your damn chin up. If you don't you will rear end somebody and screw everything up. People are retarded, and these days, more and more old people are driving around. Sometimes, I honk my horn at them just to make sure they are still alive.

How to spot dangerous drivers: In the same vein as above. It is an important part of driving to spot dangerous drivers before they have the opportunity to bring you into their bubble of stupid. There are very clear signs to be aware of. 

1. Their car is already completely janked up. This indicates one of a couple of possible scenarios. Either they already messed it up because they are stupid, or they give ZERO shits about their car. Either scenario means, they don't care to mess your car up, or their car for that matter.

2. They are old. Now, not all old drivers are bad, just like 99% of them. The ones that look dead already...you gotta watch out for them. They were driving back when everything was a dirt road, and lanes didn't exist. They think lanes still don't exist. Also, they are old, they don't care if they live any more. When they need over to get into the walgreens for their monthly meds, they will NOT check their mirrors, and you never really know if they are turning or not, because they always leave their blinker on. It's like Russian Roulette. My advice is just take a detour to avoid them if they are on the same road as you.

3. Teens. You can tell teen drivers in a few different ways. Window chalk is a great indicator. Especially if words like "Dick" or "Bae" are written somewhere. Another way to tell is if their car moves a lot at stop lights. This is typically due to them either dancing or horseplaying and they are rocking the shit out of the car. You can also spot a teen if they are blaring One Direction or Lil' Wayne and singing in unison with it. If you see a teen driver, immediately accept your death is imminent. It's best to have a pleasant surprise if you happen to live. They basically own the road. EXPECT ANYTHING from a teen driver. UP TO AND INCLUDING throwing things inside your car at a stop light.

Doctor's have a poor concept of time. This is important to note. Doctor's love to tell you the worst case scenario 100% of the time. When I had my accident, I was told I would be in a fixator for 12-16 weeks. It has been 10 weeks, and I went through a fixator, cast, and boot, and I am now walking with a brace. Save yourself the trouble. NEVER ASK A DOCTOR How long anything will take. You will leave depressed. I don't know why they do it. Maybe it's to make themselves look good, or maybe it's to make you expect the worst. Either way.....it's dumb.

Avoid catheters. I know, it sounds like a grand time. However, in general, avoid putting things into your urethra. I have had nothing but issues with these. The medical industry will use words like "necessary" and "Mandatory". LIES. Just superglue your urethra shut, because ripping it apart will be far less painful than any catheter you are likely to receive. They are AT LEAST 10 times bigger than they look. It's some type of sorcery. You can physically look at it, and it will be the size of a drinking straw, but once it makes contact with your genitals, it triples in size and grows barbs. Another thing....YOU WILL PISS AIR. I don't give a SHIT what anyone says. You will have air pockets in your bladder, and you will fart from your peehole, and you will be laughed at if you even dare ask a medical professional about it. They will claim that it's ridiculous. It's not. It will happen. You will have pee farts.

Buy a Bidet. Seriously, why are we the only country that thinks it's acceptable to wipe your butt with a piece of dry wadded up paper. Let me ask you a question, would you touch poop with your hand, and then wipe it on toilet paper, and consider your hand clean? NO. Then why the hell is it acceptable to do it do you butt? Wash that nasty ass. At the very least, give a spritz of water and then use TP. We aren't living in the stone ages. Gross.

Use Reddit. You know all those weird things that you do, and you are so ashamed of them that you don't talk to anyone else about them? No? LIAR. You have them. Not only do you have them, but I guarantee you that other people do the same thing. Reddit is completely anonymous, and you can post that disgusting or weird thing on there anonymously and talk to the other freaks just like you. While you are on there, you can learn a lot of helpful stuff. You can also read about how weird other people are and it will make you feel better. Also, all the funny stuff you read on Facebook is on there like 3 days before you see them on Facebook.

Get discounts. Seriously, if you are the customer of companies like Cell phone providers, cable, satellite, or other subscription services, don't accept ANY service interruptions. Call them, and pretend like that 30 minute outage caused complete turmoil in your life. You will often get $20 credits. They just hand them out to shut you up. This isn't slimy in my opinion. It's demanding good customer service, and if you are stuck with them because you are either in a contract, or they are the only cable provider in your area, make them work for it. Don't be afraid to be an asshole. I can't stress this enough. Aren't you tired of getting screwed by these guys.

Do things to amuse yourself. I do this constantly. I do things so ridiculous, that I laugh at myself. I find weird things to do to keep my own attention. You don't have to be around others to be funny. You can entertain yourself. It's like masturbating, only you can do it in public without getting arrested. One of my favorite things to do is to do customer service chat, make them role play with you. If I am chatting with an amazon rep to check on my delivery, I will take on the role of a robot, and insist that they play along to delivery exceptional customer service. You would be surprised at how many of them will play, and they enjoy it. Just imagine...you chat all day long fixing problems, and then this one weird guy came on and made you talk like a robot. That sounds like a blast. You can also make funny faces in the mirror. Why do you have to be a kid for this to be normal. I still enjoy it to this day. If you aren't close to a mirror, use the front facing camera. Make funny faces and laugh at yourself. Do impersonations of actors or accents. If you are as hilariously bad at them as I am, you will laugh at how dumb you sound. This is GREAT therapy. People may think you're weird, but you will find that you are a happier person if you can laugh at yourself.

Expect the worst. Ouch! I'm being a negative nelly over here. Watch out! "How could RJ say that....it's mean, and pessimistic." YUP, it is....and guess what I'm never disappointed, but I'm often pleasantly surprised. You see, if I expect the worst, and the worst doesn't happen...YAY! I did good. I'm happy instead of disappointed. Because I'll tell you a secret, people are almost always going to do bare minimum to get by. Don't be a victim. 

Two Steps Forward...

Over the last 9 months, I have had my fair share of hills and valleys. Many great things have happened to me. I've lost a lot of weight (160 lbs), met the girl of my dreams, almost lost my foot, passed a kidney stone, had my sister move in with me, and the list keeps going.

Firstly, lets talk about some good news, and then we will get down to the nitty gritty. I went for my final follow-up with Dr. Grear at Campbell Clinic and was told that my ankle was not only doing well, but SO well, that I managed to completely skip physical therapy. Yes, you read that right. I did so well with my at home stretches and exercises that he said I currently have MORE mobility in my ankle than he would have expected AFTER physical therapy. I am sure my current weight and determination helped with the recovery of that. So, you will likely not be reading much else on that little adventure. Put a fork in that chapter, because it's done!

Ever since my VSG (vertical sleeve gastrectomy) I expected my eating habits, and how I feel after I eat to change, obviously. So, I went through the motions, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary to me. I noticed over time that I would get bloated after eating. Nothing too terribly bad, but it led to a lot of reflux, and belly pain. I just figured I was eating too much, or eating something my body didn't like. I dealt with it, because after all, my stomach is now the size of a small banana. However, over the last few months, it seemed to be getting worse. I had Lesle living here now, and she was cooking a lot, so I assumed it was simply because I was eating too much, because she is an AMAZING cook. So, I lowered my portions, and it seemed like no matter how little I ate, I felt bloated and disgusting for about an hour after I ate. I began skipping meals, because of this. I actually dreaded eating.


Last week, I started having some weird cramps after eating a slice of pizza and getting sick. It was very painful and lasted well into the night. It wasn't really normal feeling cramps, it felt almost like hunger cramps, and I couldn't really place exactly where the pain was coming from. Sometimes, it almost felt as if it were coming from my back. I got hardly any sleep that night. A few nights later, it happened again (this was last Thursday, 3/12/15), but this time was different. It wasn't letting up, and I began to wonder if I had a leaky sleeve. I decided to go on into the ER AGAIN. They scanned me and said it was most likely my other kidney stone, but they also found a little bit of inflammation in my gallbladder. They sent me home with some pain meds and antibiotics. I went through the weekend, assuming that the pain was just inflammation, and popping my antibiotics.

Monday morning rolled around, and I got up to get ready for work, and I was F-ING hurting. I decided to run into the ER one more time to at least get some more pain meds, but within an hour, the pain so great, that I didn't know what to do with myself. I called the on call surgeon and he said "Get to the ER, and tell your doctor to call me"

I went to the ER, and they did the normal thing. IV, Pain meds, vitals, and then in about 15 minutes, the nurse came in and said "Dr. Degges is admitting you".

I was brought upstairs and put in a room and waited about 45 minutes for Dr. Degges to get there, and he said "You have a massive stone in your gallbladder, and I think we need to remove it. You are scheduled for 1:20".

In a flurry, I was texting everyone to tell them I was about to have surgery AGAIN. I texted work, because the fact that I even still have a job there after all the work I have missed is amazing. My bosses response was simply "Did you expect anything you do to be simple?" Good point. However, I could hardly have predicted this.

After surgery, Degges talked to Mom and told her that it was one of the worst gallbladders he had ever seen, and they were going to keep me for 2 days! This is normally an outpatient procedure. I was quite sore. More so than I ever was after my VSG.

So,  I was doing well (overall, and considering the facts). I was sucking back the water and ice cream, and I had to pee. I asked the nurse for a little urinal, and went to do my business....nothing. I sat up in the bed a little bit and re-adjusted....nothing!

What the hell, my bladder was full. I strained (it hurt my incision), and still nothing. I told the nurse, who said "It's no big deal, I'll scan your bladder, and we'll do an in/out catheter". Well, I am no fan of catheters as you probably well know by now. As she went to get the bladder scanner, I furiously tried to pee, but it felt like it was just stopped up. In/out...that doesn't sound that bad. Just stick a little straw in, drain it, and move on. Lesle was in the room when the nurse arrived with an ultrasound and a catheter kit. My bladder had almost 500ml of fluid in it, which is pretty much capacity. She recommended the cath, and I held Lesle's hand as she explained what was going to happen. It sounded harmless enough. I just told her not to be shy with the lubricant. Next thing I know...it felt like a red hot poker had been slammed into my urethra at gale force speeds. The seering pain gave way to a twinge of relief as I felt the pressure decrease on my bladder. It was a perfect balance of discomfort from having a straw in my penis, and the comfort of urinating. It suddenly stopped, but I could tell that my bladder wasn't empty. This is called "hitting a pocket" The solution is to very very slowly pull it out about an inch at a time until you start emptying again. This part sucks. Eventually the ordeal was over, and I laid there in the fetal position grasping myself as the nurse cleaned up.

The next day, I was feeling better, and I started trying to pee first thing in the morning, with no luck. I'm telling you...it was an ALL DAY ordeal. Hot water, standing up, sitting down, straining, showering, anything you can think of to pee on my own, and it wasn't happening. The nurse was already talking about another cath, and that kind of pressure only made it worse. I sat on the pot and strained so hard that I lost hearing for a moment, and suddenly, I felt a little trickle, I strained and strained and managed to give her 100ml. Enough to keep her from giving me another cath. Finally they called in a script for flomax. 6 hours later, I peed. I was able to empty my bladder on my own, and I had never been so happy, from that moment on I was a peeing machine, and all was well.

I was released on Wednesday morning, and went home and slept all day.

I decided to do some research on what exactly can happen during gallbladder issues. So much was explained. All the things that I thought were normal due to my VSG were likely caused by my gallbladder. I was released to a normal diet as tolerated, so naturally I had chicken spaghetti for dinner. It was divine. I enjoyed my meal, and I wasn't bloated. I felt satisfied. I had a nice meal with no reflux or bloating or anything.

You see, I am getting healthy, but in doing so, it's almost as if my body is saying, "Oh we are doing this now, well, let's take care of all these other issues that I was putting off because you were fat."

I learned that for people that have had this surgery, depending on the amount of weight loss, have up to a 76% chance of having their gallbladder removed within the first year.

The question still remains. Through all the things I have been through over the last 9 months, how did NOBODY notice that my gallbladder had a stone? I have had AT LEAST 3 c/t scans of my abdomen. Nobody ever once mentioned any issues. This could have been caught early and avoided an emergency surgery.

For those of you that are thinking about this surgery, please don't assume that the pain you are having is because of your VSG, especially if you still have your gallbladder. Bring any and all issues up to your doctor. This went from 0 to "in/out cath" in less than a week, so listen to your body.

On the upside, everything that happens to me is one less thing to worry about. Kidney stones? I have that licked. Gallstones? NOPE, been there, done that. I now have a whole host of healthy organs, and they only stand to get healthier (I hope) as I lose weight. As long as I can keep my job, and make my family happy while continuing on this crazy journey, what more could I possibly ask for?

With that, I leave you with some pictures that I took over the course of the last entry, including some hospital pictures.

Here is the progress pic. Left (04/2014) - Right (03/12/2015)

My Momma!

 Completely High after surgery (still in recovery)

 Battle Wounds

One of us was happy

Plagiarism, Pilgrims, and Regret.

It's time for a cleansing of the soul. I have done things, man. Things that would make Russell Brand blush...this is not one of those, because it's stupid.

This is the story of how I started a prank that ended HORRIBLY. I COULD ACTUALLY DIE FOR TELLING YOU THIS. Ok, not really....but it will be embarrassing, and the first time I have publicly admitted to it.

Before I begin. A Special Message to Mrs. Thompson. OMG I'm so sorry. I hope you still love me after reading this (if you read it).

OK. It started with the announcement of a writing contest during my senior year in High School. I was not any sort of writer in school. In fact, I hated it. However, some friends and I decided it would be a fun little thing to enter a piece of poetry into the contest that would be so ridiculous that Mrs. Thompson would call me out and we would simply have a hearty laugh and chalk it up to a poorly thought out Sr. Prank.

The plan was simple. Submit a poem that was so ridiculously and obviously fake that it would never leave the classroom. The ONLY rule. It had to be song lyrics.

I was at a fairly odd point in my life and I just happened to like Enya.

Anyhow, They have a lovely song called Pilgrim that is overly homosexual. The lyrics were OBVOUSLY over the top. Or so I thought....

For your listening pleasure, here is the song.

So. I pulled the lyrics from this overly horrible song and hastily wrote them down, being sure to remove the chorus as not to be TOO obvious. In hindsight, that was possibly not a wise decision, but hey....I have never been known for my wise decisions.

I brought it to class a couple of weeks later. I walked it to the front of the class amidst the chuckles and snorts from my friends and handed the crumpled and folded paper to the teacher, because in my head, a true artist would not have a clean piece of crisply folded paper. You know...I had to show artists angst. I take this role very seriously.

Mrs Thompson (looking shocked) took my paper and stuck it in the pile.

Now I just had to wait for her to read through it, and bust me out in front the class and have some laughs, and pray she doesn't report me for plagiarism.

A week passed, and I began getting nervous. She announced that she had chosen the finalists, whose work would be submitted to a panel of judges at ASU. They would then decide the winners.

She called out the finalists for Poetry. SHE CALLED MY NAME. JESUS CHRIST WHAT JUST HAPPENED! This is NOT going as planned. Surely this is her realizing that I was trying to mess with her, and this was her revenge. Embarrass me in front of the class. This is SO Mrs. Thompson (I secretly hoped). NOPE. IT'S HAPPENING.

I needed to think fast. If I admitted to her what I did, she would make an example of me for fooling her. On the other hand, what were the chances that this sorry excuse for a poem would even get a second glance from the panel of judges. OR what if they read it, and get pissed, and report me. JESUS THE ANXIETY WAS UNBEARABLE. There was one thing I could do....CRY LIKE A GIRL and pray I don't get into trouble. I mean, it's what any other wuss would have done. I'm no better than the others.

Another couple of weeks went by. I waited, my friends reveled, Mrs Thompson swelled with pride....

I knew at the very least, I was burning in Hell for this.

SUDDENLY! One day, the loud speaker came on. It was Mr. Dunivan with an announcement. The school had some students that placed in the "High School Writers" Contest.

Ronnie Boling wins FIRST PLACE IN NEA for his original Poem "The Journey" and guess what.... it would be published in a book!

H-O-L-Y   S-H-I-T What have I done. HOW DID NOBODY NOTICE! It's an ENYA SONG! Understand, this was in 2001, Enya was fairly popular!

I was in too deep. There was no escape. This was my life. I am now a poet. I literally cannot tell anyone I did this.

Only a small handful of people knew, and I wanted to keep it that way.

Enhance.....

I have kept this to myself long enough to hope that I am outside any statute of limitations that could possibly get me in trouble.

I'm sorry to those who thought I was a real writer. I never had a copy of the book...but Mom did. She held it proudly until the guilt got too much and I had to tell her. I think was like 22 or so when I told her.

Lesson Learned. I am a terrible terrible person.

I feel better after having confessed, I'll go whip myself with a cat of nine tails until it bleeds just a little bit, because I don't like pain.

Broken Ankle and a lesson learned

It's been a while since I posted. Things have been a little hectic for me ever since the holidays.

You see, I stayed over at my girlfriends house on Dec 27th, and on the way home the next morning, I had a pretty terrible accident.

I was driving down the highway, doing about 60MPH in the fast lane. The lady in front of me had apparently realized that she almost missed her turn. She slammed on her brakes in the left lane to make a right hand turn. While she waited for the right hand traffic to clear so she could make her turn, I rear ended her. I guess I had switched the song on my radio or something. I only looked down for a second, but by the time I looked back up it was too late. I slammed on my brakes with my right foot, and smashed into her.

The impact coupled with my foot on the brake was enough to destroy my ankle.

When I came to, I didn't realize my injuries, and in an attempt to stop rolling into oncoming traffic continued to try to smash the brake with my broken ankle. I finally realized that I wasn't stopping, and pulled the hand brake.

A gentleman ran over to check on me and I remember trying to get out of the car. He made me stay seated and asked me where I was hurting. About this time, I realized that my ankle was hurting...badly. I told him that I felt like my ankle was broken. He bent down to look at it, and his expression said it all. He explained that it looked pretty bad, and called the ambulance.

Next thing I knew, I was being lifted into the back of an ambulance being transported to the local hospital. My clothes were cut off of me, and I was sent through a blur of tests. You name it, and I had it done. X-rays, CT, MRI, blood, etc,

The doctors came back and recommended I get sent to the closest trauma hospital which is The Med in Memphis, TN. Low Clouds meant no helicopter, and I would have to ride in the back of an ambulance.

I had a lacerated liver and spleen, a bruised pancreas, and a "complete dislocation/fracture" of my ankle. To everyone's amazement, the skin didn't break. So the only thing hold my foot to my leg was skin, and my Achilles tendon. All other ligaments and my talus (the main ankle bone) were broken and torn.

I didn't realize just how serious it was until we got to the med. There was talk of amputation, rods, fixators, "reduction", and a whole host of other options. Everything was a blur at this time. A flurry of nurses and doctors and medicines. I finally went into surgery about 12 hours after my accident, and I woke up with what resembled a bionic leg. Rods and hinges and screws sticking out of my leg and ankle. Here are some pictures of the foot before and after surgery,

I was told I would have to wear the "External Fixator" for 12-16 weeks. Needless to say, it was uncomfortable. There were 2 rods drilled into my tibia that served as a kind of anchor. The carbon fiber rods attached to them and ran down to a third rod that went all the way through my heel bone. This particular rod would come to be the bane of my existence for the next 4 weeks. This whole contraption disabled any and all movement in my foot with the exception of my toes.

Fast forward about a week. I went to the doctor and learned that I would only have to have the fixator on for about 4 weeks. This was great news. At this time, there was no pain, but it was difficult to deal with. My sheets were shredded, I wasn't sleeping good, etc.

Well, about a week later I woke up with an unbearable pain in my heel right where the rod went through. I popped a couple of pain pills....nothing. The pain continued to increase throughout the day until about 8pm when my girlfriend and I decided to go to the ER in Memphis (more on the girlfriend later). They X-rayed me and said everything was fine despite my immense pain. They sent me home with more pain pills that did nothing to cease the still increasing pain in my heel. It seemed that the more time went on the worse it got. Over the course of a week, we made 3 separate trips to Memphis with ZERO explanation as to why it hurt so bad. Since there was no explanation, my doctor came to the conclusion that I was exhibiting "pill seeking behavior" and cut me completely off pain meds. He instructed that until the fixator comes out in 4 days, I was only to take tylenol. THATS IT. I couldn't believe it! The pain was real, and I was just beginning to suspect I was a wuss.

I barely made it through the weekend. I hit a very very deep depression. I was in tears, I wasn't sleeping, I couldn't even move my foot. An infection had set up in my pin sites...I was just in complete misery.

Monday rolled around and it was time for surgery. I went under, and when I woke up, the Doctor had learned something! It turns out, I'm not a pill head. The bar in my heel had become loose, and with every slight movement of my foot, it was grinding against the INSIDE of my heel bone. He concluded that I was probably in "Considerable pain". WHOOPS! Geez doc...maybe if I make three trips across state lines to complain of severe pain, I'm not just looking for a fix. GO FIGURE, JACKASS!

He sent me home with pain meds, but now that the fixator was out, I felt unbelievable! I was in no pain, and I was smiling for the first time in weeks. Here is a pic from right after getting the fixator removed.

Here it is about 9 weeks post accident, and I am in a walking boot. I am still ZERO weight bearing, but I went from Fixator, to cast, to boot in just 7 weeks! I'm making a great recovery, and I'm back at work. I'm happier than I have been in a long while too.
As I continue to move on in life, a lot has changed! On top of all this, I have continued to lose weight and I am now down over 160 lbs!

Woah, who is that guy on the left. Jesus...that gut!

I also replaced the old car since it wasn't really roadworthy.

Everything is going well. My foot is on the mend, I should be walking (or at least trying) this time next month, so I will be sure to keep you guys updated.

Thanks for reading!!!

Let's talk about Vaping.

Before I start, I am no expert. I have the ability to research objectively, and gather facts.

Quite frankly I am sick of hearing the propaganda from the media about this new technology. I don't use the word propaganda often, and I tend to stay away from media/news in general.

The first and most important thing everyone should understand is that Vaping does NOT put harmful chemicals into your body. Yes, it is debatable that nicotine is a "harmful chemical" if not used responsibly.

In american made juice there are FOUR ingredients. Propylene Glycol (PG) and Vegetable Glycerin (VG) are the main 2 ingredients. Then you have flavoring, and SOMETIMES nicotene. 0 nic juice is gaining popularity because aside from the replacement of analogue cigarettes, vaping is also actually fun.

Do you know that Propylene Glycol is used in asthma inhalers? It's also FDA approved. Of course you didn't, because you probably heard they use it in Anti-freeze didn't you? Nope, thats ethylene glycol. The only time PG is used in anti-freeze is for "non-toxic" anti-freeze. They leave that part out in the anti vaping agenda.

Vegetable Glycerin - Also FDA Approved and used in Pharmaceuticals such as cough syrup, elixirs andexpectorants, toothpaste, mouthwashes, skin care products, shaving cream, hair care products, soaps and water-based personal lubricants.

Flavorings- Food grade flavorings found pretty much in everything you eat.

Nicotine. This is a chemical. We know it's a addictive, but it is one of the least dangerous chemicals found in "analogues". Some Juices don't even contain it! The ones that do, contain pharmaceutical grade nicotine

Now, I will grant you this. With the exception of PG and nicotene, little research has been done on the affects of inhaling these ingredients. That is a valid argument.

However, extensive research has been done on the affects of inhaling Analogue cigarettes. The fact is...they kill. There are thousands of chemicals in cigarettes.

So, research before you preach what you hear on the TV.

I am tired of being told that vaping is "bad" for me. I smoke EXTREMELY low nicotine levels. I vape the nicotene equivalent of about 1-2 cigarettes per day. Bear in mind, ITS ONLY THE Nicotine. Not all the other crap.

And, It smells nice, and tastes good. AND i spend MAYBE $10-12 per month on juice.

So, if you see me vaping, please don't try to preach to me. I enjoy it. I would enjoy it with no nicotine, but the fact is, I like it. I can do without it, I'm not addicted. It's a great way to unwind, and it's fun to blow clouds.

It's something to do on a boring car ride. It's fun to do after a big meal because you get the treat of a sweet flavor without actually consuming calories.

Let's get the facts straight.

Again, I'm not expert, and I didn't cite any of the information listed here, because it's all a google search away. It's my blog, and I'm too lazy to cite.

I just wanted to get this out there.

LAST BUT NOT LEAST!

To restaurants, bars, and schools. Vaping is NOT a damn tobacco product. Stop lumping it in as such.

If you don't want me to vape in your establishment I won't out of respect. It's your place. If you don't want me vaping in your car or your house, I won't out of respect.

Just don't lump me in with the smokers. I'm not a smoker!

And to all the vapers, show some damn respect. Don't assume you can vape anywhere you want, and then argue with people about your right to vape in public. It makes the rest of us look like douchebags. Instead try to educate people.

Black Friday Blues!

Bill decided to get brave and get 6 of the craziest men together for a black Friday STL Blues game for his birthday. This is an account with very explicit details of this not-so-forgettable trip.

So, Here is the mob that went.

From left to right. Me, Adam, Wes, John, Bill, Evan

We met up at Adam's house in Paragould, and took 2 cars on the trip. The trip up there was completely uneventful. However, once we arrived at the hotel, it was evident that Evan and Adam had decided to start the party a little bit early.

We checked into our rooms and unpacked etc, Before I could even get unpacked, everyone had regrouped and was in Wesley and Adams room having some drinks and planning our next move. We had decided to go to Maurizio's Pizza. It was about 1ish. On the walk over to the pizza joint, you could tell things still weren't quite right in the area. Humvees and soldiers were placed in some parking lots, and street corners. City Hall was still barricaded off. We stepped into the pizza place and there were 2 uniformed soldiers and us. That's pretty much it. We had some drinks and I gotta say, the pizza was pretty damn good. By the time we left there we all had a pretty good buzz and things were going well. There were some adult conversations had in the establishment and a majority of that time was spent discussing our relative feelings on transsexuals I won't go into details on this, but let's just say that the entire conversation had Bill squirming a little bit in his chair.

As we left there was a homeless amputee. He yelled "Can I get a hand up?" EVERY SINGLE ONE OF US thought he said "Can I get a handjob?" That alone would be funny enough, but while we were all trying to figure out if that's what he really said, Wes was already halfway over there! Keep in mind, at this point he still hadn't figured out what he said and the fact that Wes was already over there was kind of disturbing. Wes told the guy he would not be giving him a handjob to which the homeless guy just laughed and said that was a good one. Wes helped him up, but that didn't stop us from making fun of him for being "upset" when he got over to him. Thus #hobohandjob was invented.

We adjourned back to the hotel bar at which point, I probably ordered more drinks than necessary. We had a fantastic bartender. We got a little rowdy and loud in the bar, but I think we were mostly just busy with drinking. I also sat at the end of the bar, so I didn't participate in much of the group conversation. Mostly it was just me and Adam talking.

This is Calvin the bartender. He always treats the guys well when they stay at the Sheraton.

We spent an hour or so at the bar, and went up to the room to get ready for the game. We got dressed, had a couple more drinks, and set out.

Once at the game, I was feeling a little frisky and bet Adam I could get selfies perfect strangers, just by approaching them and starting a conversation. He said I couldn't get more than 3 or 5, I forgot what we settled on, but before and during the game, it was my mission to get as many as possible. At one point the people behind me were telling another couple to get one with me and tapped me on the shoulder. So, Here are all the selfies I got.

So, right at 2nd period of the game, Adam decides to run off to the bathroom, and gets lost. He couldn't find his way back to the seats, and by the time we decided to go find him we realized that he had decided to give up and just leave the game to find a bar. He sent us a message and asked us to grab his jacket when we leave. I looked over and sure enough...his jacket was still in his seat!

After an inner dialogue with myself on whether or not to go get him, I decided it would be best, since it was cold, he was drunk, and wandering around looking for a bar in downtown St. Louis. As I was getting ready to leave the arena, I was stopped by security, who asked if I was leaving for the night. I explained that I had a friend leave in a drunken rage and I was going to look for him. Now keep in mind, that by this point, I was completely sober. The guys explained that the arena was on lock-down due to a shooting, so if I left, I wouldn't be re-admitted. I accepted it, and walked out and headed to the hotel bar (assuming that's where he went) I waded through police barricades back to the hotel bar. Adam wasn't there.

I messaged him and asked him where he was. He said he was at Maggie's, which is an Irish Pub in downtown. I wasn't sure where it was, so I asked the hotel staff. They told me that it was about a 20 minute walk.

I said yea, screw you Adam. I'm staying at the hotel until the guys are out of the game. I went up to the hotel and had a cup of coffee and watched TV until The other 4 came and picked me up. We got ready to go, and I grabbed Adam's jacket. As soon as we stepped into the hall Adam popped around the corner and was just like "Hey guys!" Everyone cussed him. He grabbed his jacket and the 6 of us trekked on to the pub. I couldn't resist this cuddly guy, so we snapped another picture, and continued our 20 minute walk.

We all sat around at the pub and ate and drank. I ordered a drink, because by this time, I was pretty much sober, and wasn't too interested in drinking anymore. Adam on the other hand....He was a different story. Everyone was ready to go, but he made it very clear that he wasn't leaving until the pitcher of beer was gone. So, Bill and I stayed behind to wait for him.

Adam had a terrible case of the hiccups, so I slid my water over to him and told him to drink some water. He yanked the straw out of my glass and drunkenly asked for the butter knife. Confused as hell, I handed it to him. He proceeds to throw it into the glass of water, and threw the glass back WITH the knife in it and started guzzling. Bill and I were both yelling and asking what the HELL he was doing. "That's a knife, not a straw." Adam responded with "Dude, I do this all the time, it works," He then proceeded to attempt to drink from the knife as if it were a straw. Bill and I almost died laughing. Thus #knifewater was born/

We gathered Adam up and left the pub. There was a fairly attractive girl sitting outside the bar. Adam asked her for a cigarette and sat next to her and began to hit on her. Her boyfriend then came around the corner and was talking about something he couldn't find in the car. I was certain that this guy was going to be pissed. Adam talked to them both and at this point Bill remarked "Well, RJ, at some point you just have to realize that Adam is just going to do what he wants, and he's a big boy, so let's just go."

We left and Bill and I talked and walked back to the hotel and left Adam to his own devices. Needless to say the other guys in the group were a little concerned by the fact that we left one of our own out in the wilds of downtown STL. He eventually made it back to the hotel, and by this point everyone was in bed except Adam and Wes. They proceeded down to the hotel bar, and the party continued for them.

The next morning, Wesley and Adam found blood splatters on both of the beds, and neither one of them could tell us where they came from, so I guess that will just remain a mystery for now.

The drive back was quiet and quick. I had Wes and Adam with me. Lets just say that Adam wasn't feeling his best on the trip home.

I realized that not only am I too old for this, but my stomach just doesn't allow for this type of activity anymore. I did have a blast, but I think I'm partied out for a bit.