I’m going to live the fuck out of you. Pardon my French but it’s the truth.
Last year was fine. It had gifts to give of course but it was f i n e. And I don’t want any part of my life to be f i n e. Not my food, not my job, not the people in it, not my weekends, not my hair – None. Of. It. I want it all to be big and full and luscious.
So I greet you not with a word for the year ahead or a deep namaste bow but with an all up in your grill declaration of squeezing out as much life as possible out of the next 360 days.
With my eyes set on adventure and travel,