No, this isn’t a post for you potheads….sorry to disappoint. This blog is about being overweight and the call to end fat shaming. Hell, I even hate the word fat.


At the peak of my weight problem, I weighed 420 pounds. Why am I writing this? I saw a gentleman walking down the street the other day and it triggered memories. I have no idea about how this person feels about himself nor is it my business. But it certainly sent me back a few years to think about when I was a large dude. And the pain of being shamed is now being re-lived.

During my weight problem, I was called a lot of names: Walking Dead, Big Guy and Fat Bastard. I was mocked for the way I walked and people would comment on what I ate. “Do you really think you should be eating that?”. I had to buy clothes that were 3XXX or size 54 pants. I’d go on trips to Florida and refrain from swimming or riding roller coasters because of my size. I’d lose a couple of pounds and some would say “I can tell by looking at your face”. As the great comedian, John Pinette would ask: “How big was my goddamned face?” I really admire those who tackle weight gain. I do however find it hard to give praise when I see someone who has obviously lost weight because that must mean I noticed they were overweight and my absence of comment was a statement. “Oh, I didn’t look good before?”

Concern about one’s own self image is enough. Do people think we ourselves don’t know we have a weight problem? Not once in my life has someone remarked upon my weight and I was surprised. “Holy shit….I’m overweight! Never noticed.” Of course I noticed you ignorant dumbass. I can’t fit in my clothes and I sweat when I eat! To this day, I’m still very self conscious. I still can’t get past the image of myself and buy clothes that are still too big for me.

I don’t know where people feel they have the right to shame. People who struggle with their weight or any other issue know they have a problem. There is zero need to remind us…..we damned well know it. Social media seems to give some the idea that they can say whatever the hell they want, no matter how much it hurts. I read comments that shame some for their weight, or call those with addictions “crackheads” or those struggling with mental illness “crazy”.

Those who know me now know I’ve lost a ton of weight. However, I’m still paying the price for what I did to myself to this day. Many of us go through this. Whether its the physical damage or the mental struggles, life is hard enough. We can do without your judgement and comments. So shut you friggin mouth.

Kraft Dinner Sucks

The other day, Londoner Shawn Adamsson posted a picture of an expired box of white cheddar mac and cheese. Now, my normal reaction would be “don’t eat expired food”, but then I remembered that, expired or not, I’d never eat that crap. Nothing to do with the nutritional value but simply due to the fact that I hate Boxed Mac and Cheese, better known as KD. I know I may get trashed a little for this given my affection for raisins and bologna. My kids love it and I know its a staple amongst students. However, I shall press on.


Its a childhood thing. I grew up as one of four kids and my single mother knew how to stretch the grocery budget. Whether it was A&P branded mac and cheese bought for 2 for $1.00, or the real Kraft Dinner or any other brand, I was disgusted with the taste. KD was what we ate when funds were low. My mind then wandered, as it usually does, to what other foods I detested as a youngster that I still despise to this day. A pan of hand made real mac and cheese with a great, crispy topping and I’m a happy guy.

Fish sticks were another. Imagine a plate of Kraft Dinner and those nasty Captain Highliner sticks made of disgusting scraps? I’d rather have gone to bed starving. My mom made us, well me, as I was the only one of the four of us kids that hated these foods, eat some of it. I avoided foods like canned tuna like the plague.


Then, I’m almost gagging as I write this, she’d add the dreaded beets to the plate. At this point, I’d beg for a wild elephant to run through the kitchen and trample me to death. I do to admit that, if prepared properly, I can stomach the odd beet.

Sandwich Spread. Anyone remember that concoction? I’m sure you can still buy it. I also believe it tastes the same as that supposed secret sauce you’d find on a Big Mac. Nope….couldn’t stand it. Then there was the dinner of liver and acorn squash. No matter that my mother did to try and mask the liver flavour, it was something I simply couldn’t stomach. To this day, I will not touch liver, not matter how much I’ve tried to open my mind and experience different foods. Not to say that we didn’t have good food, but that was more at the beginning of the pay period, which was for a wile, monthly for my mother.

I’m thrilled that as an adult, I will never be forced to eat foods I can’t stand. I can eat what I want no one can say a damn word. And, thanks Adamsson….I was only nauseous for an hour or two….jerk. 😜

Snow Removal Petition Presentation

Presentation to The Strategic Priorities and Policies Committee
January 23, 2020
Barrier Free Sidewalks and The Budget

To begin, thank you to the committee for the opportunity to present my thoughts on the budget and sidewalks.

As I speak for the next hour (kidding!), take a second to imagine you’re trying to travel 50 feet in a wheelchair to catch a bus, and you get so stuck in the snow, you start to panic. This happens to many of us each time we set out after a snowfall.

I am pleased to present a recent petition that I undertook, complete with 1964 signatures. The petition is as follows:

“Year-round barrier free access to sidewalks in London is a basic right. Many Londoners face obstacles as they travel in the city. I am asking that London City Council make it a high priority and focus on ensuring we can access sidewalks every day of the year, especially during the snowy months.
Those with disabilities, pedestrians with small children…anyone who uses a sidewalk should not be prevented from traveling in an active society. We rely on public transportation yet can’t access it after a snowfall.
During the summer months, sidewalks are closed with no notice or improper signage, again, a barrier to easy access.
Please lobby your Councillor! Thank you for your support.

Given the significant media attention this petition has garnered this week, and a huge increase in signatures, this particular issue has struck a nerve in this community. Why create this petition? Each year during the winter months, Londoners struggle to conduct their daily business due to poorly maintained sidewalks. Those with disabilities struggle even more. Many days, some of us are stuck at home, unable to traverse impassable sidewalks or access bus stops. The City of London website even encourages use of public transit during snow events, yet, this is a significant challenge.

At yesterday’s State of the City Address, Mayor Holder spoke about his vision for a fleet of electric buses. I applaud his vision, I really do. My concern is-will we be able to access them?

I am a member of the Accessibility Advisory Committee and the Community Diversity and Inclusion Leadership Team. These groups work hard to try and ensure our city is completely inclusive and accessible, yet our sidewalks and bus routes speak to a different tone. Inaccessible sidewalks prevent many from conducting their daily affairs, or many press on, risking injury. Work, community volunteerism, appointments and more are some of the functions of daily life, yet these simple tasks are a challenge for many.

We’re in a climate emergency-we’re encouraging active, mutli-modal transportation. Public transit, cycling, walking, all great steps to reducing our carbon footprint. Yes, I mention cycling when I speak about sidewalks. Cyclists are using the sidewalks and I don’t blame them considering the lack of safe cycling infrastructure. However, with current snow removal policies, the challenges are many.

We also need to also consider the mental anxiety caused by impassable sidewalks. Many stress at the thought of navigating a city after a snow fall. Let me read this quick Twitter thread from Sheryl Rooth after her travels that included nearly being hit by a car:

“I am exhausted. Every damn day my life is put at risk. Every winter I have to send polite emails to city hall asking for people to do their damn jobs properly. This isn’t an anomaly. This is consistent. I know going home tonight will mean climbing over snowbanks.”
Sheryl continues:
“I can’t continue to live a life of anxiety, fear and anger every time I have to walk somewhere in London. My heart and head cannot take it anymore”.

This is a feeling many of us experience, wondering if the walks, curbs and bus stops have been cleared.

I also recognize that clearing roads is a priority. Emergency vehicles, public transit and the sheer volume of cars makes this a necessity. Our city staff work hard, following the direction of management and provincial standards, clearing the snow as fast as they can. For this, I am grateful. However, there needs to be consistency. Some days, with light snowfalls, I see sidewalk machines out fairly quickly, other days, we may not see them at all.

With the business case for lowering snowfall thresholds under consideration, prioritized at #25, lower than WIFI in arenas, at an additional cost of $4.2M, there is a potential to see improvements. Lower snowfall thresholds mean the plows can hit the walks faster. And at an average of $4.94/yr. per property owner, it’s very inexpensive. However, I implore this committee to give serious consideration to not only approving this increase, but to explore other options or revenue streams to supplement and even improve upon the new standards.
Options could include:
– Re-consider road widening. If more Londoners can access public transit, safer walking or cycling conditions, more drivers may be inclined to leave the car at home. This lessens the traffic congestion and the need for expansion. Its also a win for the environment
– Invest in future equipment, such as snow brushes, that allows for a cleaner removal of snow. Given current construction of sidewalks, I appreciate why it is a challenge to get the blades down to bare cement.
– Explore priority sidewalk clearing, i.e. Bus routes or neighbourhoods with a higher concentration of Londoners with disabilities
– Usage of sand/salt on sidewalks
– Look at opportunities to save on road clearing? Are we using too much salt?
– Look at the list of projects and consider what are “have to haves” vs “nice to haves”. Should we be spending this money?

I’ve been spending much of this time speaking to sidewalks and snow removal. I’m also requesting that some priority be given to sidewalks, construction and enforcement during the construction season. Too often, sidewalks are closed with either improper notice or zero notice at all. Construction vehicles park on or close sidewalks and this impacts all of us. Consider the impact on vulnerable users are struggle enough making their way around without backtracking as they come across a closed sidewalk.

I’d like to thank Councillor Shawn Lewis who has worked diligently to bring sidewalk snow clearing to the forefront. I’d like to also publicly thank all the homeowners and business owners who take the time to clear the walks in front of their properties. A special shoutout to Snow Angels.ca for their efforts. And finally, thank you again to this committee for your consideration.

I leave you with this thought: Again, speaking to Mayor Holder’s speech yesterday: “The issue that defines our city today is SUPPORTING LONDON’S MOST VULNERABLE. It defines not only ‘what’ we are, but ‘who’ we are. The true measure of any society can be found in how it treats its most vulnerable members.” Many of us are disabled and vulnerable. And we need your help to ensure barrier free access to our city.

Turns Out I Like Disco

I tweeted out the other day that I found it was too challenging to write while listening to KC and the Sunshine Band. Was Shakin My Booty too much. My mind then started to wander and I wanted to jump into my DeLorean and go back to 1977 and slap some sense into 11-year-old Gerry. “Listen you-you should be Kung Fu Fighting!” Too many years not enjoying the sweet disco sounds of the 70’s.

In my younger days, sporting the popular coveralls and running shoes, trying to get my hair to look like Peter Frampton’s, disco was not for me. I was listening to KISS and trying to figure out how to buy the needed makeup so I could look like Gene Simmons. I thought the Bee Gees really sucked. Yes, I went to street dances (we had those in Oakville back in the day) and went through the disco motions, but much preferred Elton John, the Theme from SWAT and The Stones. ABBA? Not a chance in all living hell (a sentiment I still have today)


Then, the 80’s happened and disco was a distant memory. For the next 25 years, 80’s music was a constant on my radio, Walkman and Discman. I was still a huge Stones, Van Halen and Dire Straits fan, but it was all 80’s all the time. Then, I don’t know what or why, something clicked and my appreciation for disco increased. I remember working during the Western Fair during the Fall Fair and Stayin’ Alive was blasting on the midway. I found myself…..ummmm….strutting like Tony Manero. Thankfully, I wasn’t wearing the same tight pants he wore in the movie. That’s an image that makes me even gag….me in those pants, not John Travolta.


I’ve come to appreciate Play That Funky Music, anything by the Bee Gees,  Funkytown, Disco Inferno and many more. And hey, speaking of the Bee Gees, check out their One Night Only show in Las Vegas. Well worth the watch.

I’ve found the secret to being productive is to not listen to disco if you’re trying to get stuff done. Unless its cleaning the bathroom or something. Disco motivates one to get that damn bathroom clean.

11-year-old Gerry was wrong. Dumbass.



I Was Unfollowed?

Social media: Its all gotten too personal and we’ve let it all get to us.


I joined the circus that is social media 11 years ago. I was resistant to Facebook and the rest for some time. Life was too busy and I really didn’t give a damn. Then, I decided to give it a shot. I was changing jobs back in 2009 and thought Facebook would help keep me connected to those work friends I was leaving behind.

I also used social media as a marketing tool for work as well as a digital connection to my staff. I ran contests and promotions for our customers, advertised upcoming events and kept my team up to date. Seems texting and emails weren’t enough. I really liked Facebook and Twitter. I was “informed” and connected to the world.

Today. social media has become mean spirited and it seems more about how many followers one has. The more you have, the more popular you are? Offended-jump on Twitter and bitch about it (I’m guilty of this). Anyone who connected with me, what the hell, I followed back. The more the merrier right?

Then I discovered I was missing out on the tweets and comments from those I really wanted to follow. Too much emotion was expressed by too many. The language, the insults, the complete and utter nonsense. Group pages on Facebook, with their nonsense politics and attacks on users is getting out of hand.

I did a purge-dumped close to 900 accounts. What a feeling. I was actually following accounts that I wanted to follow, read tweets and opinions that were meaningful.

For awhile, if someone unfollowed or unfriended me, I’d wonder what I had posted that caused them to unfollow. It was upsetting. Am I offensive? It was stressing me out. Then, about a year ago, something clicked in my brain and I started to not care. I’m not everyone’s cup of tea. I’m not going to spend my time wondering what I did to upset a stranger on Twitter or a supposed friend on Facebook. Its not that I’m an unsensitive jerk, its that I came to the conclusion that it wasn’t worth getting upset about. I have a true circle of friends and family that I want to focus on. I want to spend my time and energy on what matters to me.

I refuse to jump on TikTok, Instagram, Snapchat or any other fad medium. I’ll stick with Facebook and Twitter. I try hard to not engage ( and fail at times) with the faceless trolls and morons with idiotic posts and opinions. I enjoy those I do follow. I’ve learned, laughed, been inspired and am engaged. I’ll continue to use it to share my silly writings, stay connected and have a little fun along the way. However, I’m not going to let it upset me anymore. Too much time wasted when I have other, far more important things to concentrate on.

Dying On Your Own Terms

Mike Sloan and I, a couple of years ago, did not get along. I challenged him a few times on tweets that I felt were inappropriate. I found myself blocked. Being blocked meant I couldn’t follow along with his recent journey and battle with cancer. But, from what I can gather over the past year, Mike passed away, leaving a lasting, positive legacy, full of humour, bluntness and bravery.

I didn’t know Mike. I read with interest various news articles or watched video of interviews he did along the way. Raising a ton of money for YOU, I was impressed with his selflessness and dedication to a part of our community that desperately needed our help.

Mike seemed to have died on his own terms-how and when he wanted. MAID, Medical Assistance in Dying, is a brave step and I can’t conceive what goes through one’s mind as they commit to this decision. Many of us want to die peacefully, both mentally and physically. I imagine given the type of cancer Mike endured, he was in pain and could feel that his life was ending.

I’ve considered a few times “what if I found myself in Mike’s position”? I think I’d want to go out the way he did. Dying in pain in a hospital is not an option. Hanging on is also not an option. I’d want to be pain free, happy with whatever positive impact I’ve made in the life. I’d want my friends to smile when they think of me. I want my kids to be proud of me. And I want to be proud of myself.

Based on the outpouring I’ve seen on Twitter, Mike left behind many friends and Chub, his cat. Kind words and sadness are being expressed by a grieving community. Mike is no longer in pain. He left this world the way he wanted and I’m quite sure he is at peace now. To his many friends who are in pain today, I am very sorry for your loss. Mike taught us many things about how to live and die with dignity. I can’t speak for anyone else, but for this, I am grateful to have learned this lesson. I hope to go out the same way Mike did with as much bravery and immense respect that he earned over the past year. To those who stuck by Mike and were with him to the end, you’re incredibly wonderful people. You’ve shown what class and caring is all about.

Thank you Mike.


Don’t you people have anything better to do than to read my rambling nonsense?


I jest of course. This week, my blog site passes 10,000 reads. I never imagined when I started this ridiculousness that many people would actually pay attention to this. 10,000 is a huge milestone. The stats also show that these posts are being read in 52 countries around the world. Um, what? People in the UK, Germany, Singapore, Mexico, the US and China are checking out this blog? The power of the internet is incredible.

I’m humbled. I really am. I started to write as a means of therapy to be honest. I’ve always wanted to write, but never made the time. Too many excuses and distractions. A change in life’s directions and I found myself sitting in from of a keyboard, about to write my first blog. I had already published my first book, The Bloody City, but wanted to blather on with other topics. Not only has this been therapeutic, but fascinating, enlightening, and rather enjoyable.

I was never a chatty kind of guy. To discover, with this site and my books, I’ve written over 250,000 words, tells me I have something to say and lo and behold, I have an imagination. Who knew.

This year, I plan to keep doing what I’m doing. I plan on publishing at least three different books, will keep yammering on and having some fun. I hope these words that I scribble continue to inspire, make you smile, and reminisce a little. I’ll mixing up the topics, some humourous, some topical but hopefully interesting enough you don’t fall asleep. I’m open to suggestions…tell me what you want me to write about.

My heartfelt thanks to all who follow along. I appreciate your support. However, it is your fault I keep writing!

Fries and Gravy

This column isn’t about fries and gravy….well it is…..but its not. Its more about missing London of the 80’s. You’re reading this and thinking “um, what?” Hang tight….I’ll get there.

I moved to London in 1978 and even as a 12 year old, I was out and exploring downtown London. In 1980, I started high school at CCH and became very familiar with our core. Almost daily trips to the Silver Ball Arcade (located where the London Bicycle Café is in business), pocket full of quarters earned from my London Free Press paper route. Regular trips across the street to Hi Lunch on Dundas for some fries and gravy was always tasty pleasure. CCH had a cafeteria run by the Beaver Foods ladies and of course, there was the treasured grilled cheese, fries and gravy lunch on Fridays.

I don’t know how many times I’d hit the Capital or Century Theatres on Dundas to catch a movie or two. That meant a visit to  The Mascot Restaurant (where the downtown Tim Hortons is located) for some delicious fries with the decadent gravy and a cup of coffee in one of those mugs I couldn’t fit my finger in to lift it. Then, they built the London Mews…an indoor mall complete with new, state-of-the-art movie theatres. That meant more trips downtown!

Credit: Unknown

I miss spending time at Sam The Record Man-hours spent flipping through records or spending hours waiting in line for Springsteen concert tickets. Don’t know how many laps I completed on the Victoria Park skating rink or how many free concerts I watched at the Bandshell during the summer months. Gowan…Trooper….Jeff Healey…Kim Mitchell. I used to spend a lot of time exploring City Lights Bookstore….a stalwart in Downtown London and I’m so glad they’ve remained in the core. I try and get in when I’m downtown…..great place!

I started to explore East London regularly. Don’t know how many times I saw the Star Wars movies at The Park Theatre. I discovered The Malibu and the DelMar-home to the best clubhouse sandwich and …..fries and gravy! Great shops could be found along the winding section of Dundas St. I learned to golf while in high school out at East Park. I transferred to Montcalm and discovered that the Zellers at Northland Mall had a restaurant called the Skillet. Stopping in after school, you guessed it, for some fries and gravy.

I remember when Hutton Road, now Wonderland Road, was 2 lanes! Now there is talk of expanding it to 6 lanes!! At Richmond and Fanshawe, long before all of the development, sat Richie’s restaurant….home to London’s best Vanilla Milkshake. I know its still there, but its not the same.

I used to ride my bike everywhere. Adelaide, Oxford….never concerned with my personal safety. I’d strap my old school Adidas gym bag on my back ( and wearing reflective clothes wasn’t even a thought at that time), turn on my Walkman cassette player and head to work at the Esso station at Adelaide and Huron, making sure to stop and grab a donut at Country Style or a milkshake at Merla Mae before heading into work the Quick Lube.


Our city is growing like crazy. I miss old London. However, with Dundas Place complete, I’m optimistic that our downtown will start to thrive again. I still love this city and excited for what is to come. And….I still love a good plate of fries and gravy.

Rollercoasters and My Boy

My son Phillip is now 20, but I swear when he was younger, he was trying to kill his dad.

Rollercoasters and Gerry don’t mix. Used to like them, but then something happened. I think it has to do with the Behemoth at Canada’s Wonderland. I’ve told the story before, but I was sure the little seat I was sitting on was going to break off and launch me towards my death on Highway 400. After getting off the ride, Phillip says “lets go again dad.” I should have put him up for adoption right then and there. I had already survived one of the older, wooden coasters with a dislocated hip and shaky legs, so I was done for the day.

I’m fairly certain that as dads, we want to prove our manhood when it comes to our sons. Anything they can do, I can do-right? So, on a trip to Cedar Point, I was determined to keep up with my son. First coaster done and I was completely convinced that my son has no fear and I’m an idiot for trying to keep up with him. As I watched from the ground as Phillip ascended 11,000 feet into the air on the Millennium Force, not only was I feeling like a giant wimp, but that I was also the worst dad in the world for letting my then 10 year old go on this ride. Phillip gets off the ride with a smile and says “it was okay”! The kid is nuts. We explore the rest of the park, with Phillip trying almost every ride and it turns out, I’m more of a lazy river kinda guy.


Phillip has a way of figuring out where the cameras are in roller coasters. Here he is acting all relaxed and bored on the Leviathan at Canada’s Wonderland. Everyone else is afraid of dying, yet there he is-all laid back.


In 2015, on a trip to Universal Studios in Florida, where many of the rides are those 3D Virtual rides, I, had made peace with myself that I’m a wimp, and I made Phillip “test” the rides,l and report back to me before I’d ride them. First up, The Simpson’s ride. Phillip says its great and nothing to be nervous about. I give it a go and loved it. Even did it a couple more times. My trust in Phillip improves. I check out the coaster in Hogwarts and nearly puked, but survived. We do the Spiderman ride, all good. Transformers, excellent.

The next day, we head to Diagon Alley and Phillip convinces me that I’ll enjoy the ride at Gringotts. “It’s great dad!”. Reluctantly, I climb aboard. An excellent ride….until the huge drop that Phillip forgot to mention. Trust in Phillip…..gone. I should have stayed at Moe’s Tavern.


Bottom line dads: Don’t try and keep up with your kids at times. They seem to have a complete lack of fear. And when your son says its safe, easy and its cool, don’t believe them. Its a trap.

Days Without My Dope

No…I’m not a pothead. Although………I’m referring to the fact that I went three days without taking the old happy pills….the anti-anxiety drug that reduces my anxiety.

In 2016, it was determined that I suffer from anxiety. Things weren’t normal in this grey haired noggin of mine and each day it appeared that I was freaking out or getting stressed over the simplest stuff. A very low dose anti-anxiety was prescribed and it’s helped. I was warned to ensure I stayed on top of the drug, don’t try to go off the medication due to the possibility of a variety of concerns, depression and suicidal thoughts. For the most part, I stayed on the drug and everything is good.


Last month, I thought I was having a heart attack…turns out to be my first full blown anxiety attack. Holy hell….scared the crap out of me. Made a doctor’s appointment right away, but of course, the appointment would be in a month (January 6th). Feeling okay with this, life went on. A couple of small moments but that’s it.

I really don’t have a lot to be stressed or be anxious about. Yeah, there’s that whole stupid leg drama, but I can deal with this. My life is fairly simple and happy for the most part. I come across as a cranky bastard ( right Sheryl?) but geez, who doesn’t once in a while? I’ve been trying to improve on my thinking, thanks to people like Shawn Adamsson and Steven Holland- don’t sweat the small stuff. But something was backfiring. Shawn posted on social media an article about rejection. I spent a lot of time thinking about this subject: “why did so and so not respond to my message?” and so on. The leg crappola was still going on, with concerns about further amputation, life in a wheelchair….blah blah blah. I was sinking. Everything was starting to bother me. Realizing I was out of the meds, I called in a refill to Rexall, the location only a couple of blocks away. I usually go pick up my prescriptions instead of getting delivery.

And here, we’re getting to another point that causes my anxiety. Being disabled and striving to be independent, I try and do everything myself. I’ve always been somewhat independent and I’m not going to let a disability get in my way. However, on Sunday, knowing I had to get to two doctor appointments on Monday, along with picking up the meds and knowing snow was coming, the anxiety really grew. I had a couple of teary moments for no particular reason and finally a melt down at the end of the day. Bad enough I have problems sleeping as this silly mind of mine won’t shut down.

Monday arrives and so did the snow. On the way to Rexall, I got stuck in the snow and abandoned the trip. Made it to the doctor’s appointments though. Good chat with my family doctor and I’m back on track. A new mild medication is issued, along with some strategies to work on stress and sleep, including “sleep hygiene”. Next appointment to deal with my leg that isn’t healing was manageable, and now faced with a potential further amputation, I handled the news well.

I have come to understand that, as a double amputee, this is what life will be. There is a slight chance I may never walk again….have to wait and see. But, being on a mild anti-anxiety has helped me come to terms with this….and now I’m fine with it. I know there may be moments when it gets me down, but I can handle it.

The lessons that I learned or was reminded of:

  • Talk! Can’t keep these things bottled up
  • Take the drugs when and how they prescribed and plan ahead
  • Have my medications delivered!
  • Keep taking care of myself

Yes….I suffer from mental illness and I’m certainly not ashamed to admit it. These past few days were very good learning moments. I’m back….stubborn as all hell. If you want to judge me, whatever….don’t care. My anti-anxiety pills keep me level, logical and ensures that I don’t give a damn about those who judge.

Oh yeah….slept well last night.