Well, here it is a little over three years since the morning when everything went straight in the dumper. Literally, in some cases. I won't insult you by pretending I'm even vaguely proud of some of the things I did along the way to keep body and soul together and a roof over my head. But I did what I did and here I am today as a result of it - barely able to walk, most of the time, the poster boy for Chronic Fatigue and possessing two full outfits to my name. But I'm alive. I've had two nervous breakdowns and a suicide attempt, but nope - still here. I plan to keep it that way. Rock and roll, babies. Rock and roll.