Monday means legs, and the bar just about won that round — I'm still catching my breath in here. Come spot me next time?
Monday means legs, and the bar just about won that round — I'm still catching my breath in here. Come spot me next time?
Spent the afternoon ringside at the grappling tournament and every match is just two people arguing over who ends up on top. I always know who wants it more before the whistle blows. Which one would you be?
Three days of desert came home stuck to my truck, so it's suds and a long brush until the black paint shows again. I'm getting just as wet as the hood. Come rinse me off when I'm done?
Three days of dirt and quiet, and the second I'm home my body remembers exactly what it's been missing. Clothes are somewhere by the door and I'm not going to find them. Tell me you'd walk in right now?
Half the off-road world is crammed into a convention hall this weekend and I picked dust, dirt, and a hot spring instead. Day two out here and I found exactly the right place to wash off. Tell me I chose right?
First night out here and the meteors are already cutting across the sky — not a soul for miles, so I stopped pretending I needed the clothes. Come lie out under it with me?
Truck's loaded and I'm pointing it at the desert for a couple of days — first trip since the show and I'm not bringing a single schedule with me. Want to ride shotgun?
Flour on my shoulders, cinnamon rolls in the oven, and not a single gram counted. Come lick the spoon?
My whole feed is still Vegas and there I am on someone else's screen — coffee's gone cold and I don't even care. Come watch it with me?
The tan's coming off and what's underneath is finally all mine again. Stay up with me?