This post is not quite a year late, but almost. Ignore the chest hair, and ignore that thing that looks like fat in front of my stomach (I'm working on it............no, I'm not working on it - but I'm going to), but feast your eyes on my battle wounds. I got 'em the hard way - Puerto Rican style, where the doctors hate Americans because they enjoy all of our benefits tax free.
Picture this - jagged rocks, and a monster wave crashing me and Rory down the rocks as we get stabbed by one jag after another. You can't see my foot here, but let me paint a picture for you - foot = slashed.
Stay tuned for more exciting events in my life.