I didn’t want to be a drug dealer. I wanted to be a stock broker. Hell, I was a stock broker for a while, but when I turned 21, my record became public and they took my license away. Apparently, you can’t be a stock broker if you’re also a murderer. “I was a murderer yesterday too, mother******,” I said. Apparently the SEC would have gotten rid of me yesterday had they known. Of course, there was also the issue of the spark plug, but they didn’t care much about that. The Navy though, they were the opposite. They said being a murder wasn’t a problem— they’d teach me a million ways to kill someone, but then the goddamn spark plug incident happened. F***.

I used to be a Chip and Dale and a full-blown porn star. I was in Playgirl magazine too, which might be one of the things my Dad was proudest of. I have fled from the US government to Mexico, and I have fled from the Mexican government to the US. I grew up in jail and have been on house arrest twice. I’ve fallen madly in love too many times and divorced three women. I only count one of the divorces as real. The other two women were just girls I divorced. I have consumed more cocaine, vodka, protein and nicotine than any living human. Some dead ones may have outdone me. I have seen many people die, some friends, some enemies. I started dealing drugs at age 12, but my path was cemented when I killed someone at age 14.

Now, my life is a lot different. As it should be. I’m a competitive bodybuilder, an intensive personal trainer/life coach, and business-owner. I’m a goddamn upstanding citizen. Sometimes. This is my story.

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