A memoir of obsession
Due to my own arrogance, poor decisions and surrounding myself with knuckleheads I had the pleasure of experiencing grinding poverty in my early twenties. The slow slog back to non-bum status had me working two jobs, the “real” one as an illustrator/graphic artist for Amtrak and to make the rent I worked evenings at the gym. (more…)
Seneca makes sense
What this is: