If you died tomorrow would you be proud of your life?

So many times, not only was I ashamed of my life but I actively tried to get myself killed. Any risk I took face first. I did this because of the short falls of my life. I wasn’t living up to the potential I knew I could achieve and that we all can achieve. I wanted to be the one to lean on. I wanted to be the honorable big brother to my fellow men and women who would was willing to sacrifice, protect, inspire and provide for them. For eight years I have tried to achieve this goal by showing all those around me how grateful I am to have them in my life and give something back. To lend support, to listen, to help build their dreams as they did for me.

 

Many years ago someone told me to focus on me. To look out and take care of me because I wasn’t in a good place. And that this person needed to do the same. But they were wrong. Looking out for yourself will only get you so far. That will make you average. Those who want to help everyone. Who are willing to shoulder the burden we change the world. We inspire. Because we do what is hard, what is illogical, what is painful. We run towards danger to help others. We don’t run away to protect ourselves. That is what I wanted to achieve and falling short was killing me. But I kept trying. I kept working on my dream. I knew that my invention wouldn’t only help the planet. It had the potential to change the way we think. Not only can we now remove microplastics from the water but that idea started with a half drunk dreamer at the country club of virginia. I walked out of there a failure. I looked my friends in the eyes and knew we were headed back to the same shit hole we lived in. We were headed back to our average lives of life, rent, and death. I walked back in and made a contact that started all of this for them. I’m not trying to change the physical world that is secondary. I want to change the hearts of the people in it. I want my story to be one of someone who came from the shitiest apartment in richmond. Someone who should have never been invited to the country club of virginia. Someone who had been abandoned, marginalized, and banished from his home by what was left of his family. Someone filled with shame, failure, pain and hate. If I could achieve this then all of you could see that I am not special. We all are special. We all dream and feel love in our hearts. All that is stopping us is that we are thinking about ourselves. We are consumed by the fear. We need to build a better world of the heart. Inspire the ones we love. We all need to love one another.

 

Tonight is the first night I go to sleep proud of my life because of a phone call I got today. My big sister. The successful responsible one of the family called me the black sheep today to thank me for inspiring her. She had a dream to change some hospital protocols that would protect patients and doctors. She had a dream to help others and asked for my help and inspiration. She said you have achieved so much and made so many positive changes in your life I wanted to better myself and the world around me too. She worked on her policy for a year. She was doubted, ignored, and marginalized just like I was in the beginning. I told her to stay with it. Fight. Keep hope alive. Fight for your dream. It is worth it. You can help these people if you don’t give up. You are right and it is a good idea. We need this and you are capable of shouldering the burden to get us there. You are strong enough to achieve this dream and win the hard fight ahead. You have the courage to have patience and the perseverance because this will be hard, this will take years. I have complete faith in my big sister as she did in her little brother.

Today she was nominated for a nightingale award because of her new policy. The head of her hospital was so proud of my big sister he nominated her because she fought to change the world for other people. My big sister was inspired to fight because of the little brother who fought for her. My big sister was recognize for her achievement, courage, and heart. And when the battle was won she called her little black sheep brother and said thanks for inspiring me.

 

My inventions are in major circles. You will see them soon. We can clean the water. We can reduce coal emissions by 93%. We can generate electricity in new ways. And I am just getting started. But what I am proud of most is the reinvention of myself. Taking the pieces of my shattered life and making a beautiful inspiring mosaic of love, dreams, invention and determination.

 

I got here because I fought for others. I got here because I dreamed. You can too. I know it.

It’s been a while America. Anyone still there?

Oh we don’t know the roads that we’re heading down
We don’t know if we’re lost, that we’ll find a way
We don’t know if we leave, will we make it home
We don’t know, there’s hope, then we’ll be okay

It’s hard when you’re living and you don’t feel much
And you’re down and you’re hurting ’cause you don’t feel loved
It’s hard when you’re living and you don’t feel much
And you’re down and you’re hoping that things are gonna change

In this life we feel entitled to happiness. We have faith in the happy ending and the smooth road. Well some people, mainly everyone, don’t get those cards. You have to fight and believe. You will inevitably die like the rest. Some are lucky in business and unlucky in love. Some only have bad luck. Some get cancer when they are twelve. Some get wounded in war because they wanted there family to have it better then they did. We will all feel pain and loss.

I was a man raised by women. Every boy needs a Father. Dad was left but he did have the balls to come back just long enough to die of AIDS and it broke my heart to watch him suffer. I miss him everyday. He was the best and our time was to short. I don’t wish that kind of pain on trump. You want to lay down, shake and cry every time you think about it because that loss never goes away. Every song, pancake, smoke, and when you need guidance only a father can give. All I can do is ask a picture on my desk.

So we all should go kill ourselves right? Wrong my mom, rose and sister raised a Gentleman. (Gentleman is a metaphor for someone who accepts responsibility and the cards he is dealt taylor oceans is not sexist or racist he was raised by three women with the biggest balls in the world). They raised someone who isn’t in this life for happiness. He is looking for an honorable fight. He is here to make this world better for all people so that one day no one has to feel that pain. Because it never goes away. So we all have a roof over our heads, food in our belly, books to read, the love of a family, clean air and clean oceans.

Some of us have to hack it more then others. We won’t get what we want. We won’t get the family. We will get cancer. We will lose those who we love. But that doesn’t give us the right to be assholes. We won’t take it out on the sales rep, we won’t ignore our friends problems substituting and quantifying our own. We will hold the door for everyone in the human race. We will pull over and help. We will fight for our fellow man and woman. We will conduct ourselves with honor. We will do our part for the human race. For that dream.

I picked this song for two reason. First holy shit it is hysterical the Capt nailed his entrance. Street fighter for life. Second as individuals we are only a solo act. Together we can be Capt Strumbella and fight the Dark in this world. We will always lite a candle. We can be kind to the sales rep. We all have to make a living and if you don’t have a degree and want to make +80k to afford your invention you hustle. You hustle like a southside pimp because the asshole bitching you out for no reason is going to benefit from your dream. We can love and support those around us free of obligation or judgement. Because it is honorable to respect everyone and we need that self-standard. So everyday when you look in the mirror you can see a good, pure, honorable human being. We can trust and work together as the human race. That is the master race. All of us together fighting and loving as one. So let it all go and stand honorably with me every minute of everyday.  The entitlement, judgement, the pain of loss, your views on cultural norms and our basic animal instinct to kill and fuck… That is my Dad’s legacy. It is my dream.

 

Addendum

We can keep the fuck part I take that back. Fuck like animals that is good. That sweaty raunchy, passionate shit that wakes the neighbors. You need to take a shower after but your too damn tired and pass out next to the person you love most. Or hooker whatever works. I can make that joke I’ve been paid for sex.

 

Next year will be ten years Dad. Sorry I missed your anniversary again, but you know me I’m like you. Distracted and never thinking of the here and now. But your lessons are always with me. I’m a dreamer. I miss you a lot and our conversations. See you at the end of the bar Dad, but I still have some things to do here that will make you proud. I don’t know the roads I am heading, I don’t know if there is a hope it will be OK. But I will always be honorable. Just like you taught me. Rest in Peace.

Long Live the Writers

Taylor Oceans

COME ON AMERICA

 

America yet again you have earned my disdain. While leaving the hardware store today I saw a handicapped guy all alone trying to fix his chair. At the hardware store, the epicenter of handymen and everyone just drove by as this pathetic (Not to insult the guy but he obviously needed help in a very sad way) dude tried to get out of his chair and fix his own wheel.  It was hot as shit, the sun is beating on this guy, he cant even speak, hold up his head or function is any way I would call normal. This guy makes you thank god or whatever deity you believe in that you did not get his lot in life.

So I get out of my car go over and fix his chair. His crooked smile was heart warming. His skinny weak hands tried their best to shake my hand in thanks. I offered to escort him across town in case the wheel messed up again, but his little computer said he was fine. He cant even speak on his own America and you drove by FUCK YOU. I then returned to my car, drove to a gas station, got him a fiji water, went back and hunted that guy down. He was making good time and I gave him the water because I had no idea how long he was trying to fix his wheel in the sun. It is hot in Virginia today.

America this has been the worst year of my life. The woman I love left me for a guy you could find at any sports bar. She added insult to injury by communicating that message to me in a text. I also broke my hand this year making my normal jobs in construction impossible to work because now my hand is more like the guy in scary movie and it hurts like shit every minute of everyday. I could not work, pay my medical bills and bottomed out at 2.95 in my checking account. I was also mauled by a dog, this year, and have had a nightmare every night for the past 158 days since she left me. But who is counting right? I am sleep deprived wounded, heartbroken, and alienated from my family and home. This is not a pity party I just want to illustrate that if anyone has an excuse to be in a bad mood, ignore the world or go on a shooting rampage it is this guy right here writing for you.

But I’m better then that. I’m Taylor mother fucking Oceans, I will always help people and I never give up no matter the odds. I have rallied over the past months and now make 1,000 a week, running my own media and design company. My patent is about to be approved by the EPA and I’m going to be so rich I think I’m going to start my own country. None of you are invited. That is how real Americas rally.

FUCK ALL OF YOU FOR DRIVING BY THIS AMERICAN WHO NEEDED HELP. NEXT TIME GET YOU HEAD OUT OF YOU ASS, PUT DOWN THE SMART PHONE, AND DO SOMETHING USEFUL WITH YOUR LIVES EVEN IF IT IS JUST GIVING FIVE MINUTES TO A CRIPPLE AND FIX HIS CHAIR. WHY IS IT SO HARD FOR US TO BE HUMAN?

Long Live the Writers

Oceans

 I’ve done horrible things in my life. But I have changed. You can too. You have the power.

 

 

 

Gentleman don’t quit

 

America I’m here to show you how to live. In the last two months I have had my heart broken, my right hand broken, and was bitten by a dog. The specifics are irrelevant however I do have to take the blame for all three. The point is I still suited up, took off my cast, put her picture in my pocket and sold a millionaire on my invention. Not only that but I sold him on making me an Executive of his Company and the Creative Director. I looked him in the eye, shook his hand like a Virginia Gentleman and took the pain of him re-breaking my hand. Then I took my check, left, and reset the bone myself on the sidewalk. Gentleman don’t Quit. You shouldn’t either.

There are no obstacles in life. Only challenges. When you get knocked on your ass and your body is broken. Lying alone in the mud wishing you were free of the pain. Your only comfort a tattered picture of her you still carry in your pocket. Gentleman still reach for the stars. Even with our ass stuck in the mud. We get up, lite a smoke, make a drink, and say “Fuck it, I can take it!”. Your dreams only fail when you give up on them and I will never give up on my dream for us.

I don’t care what your problems are America. Trust me we all have them. But stop being such a pussy and Fight. Fight for your dreams. Fight for your future. Fight for love.

Long Live the Writers

Taylor Oceans

Want to read my story? Link to my book below.

http://www.amazon.com/Playing-Your-Hand-Right-Showing/dp/1484829794/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1385767769&sr=8-1&keywords=playing+your+hand+right

 

 

If your wondering how a dog bit my arm pit I was protecting my beautiful face. Luckily my shirt was ok.

Oh and a freezer is harder then your hand.

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41. WHEN SHE BREAKS YOUR NOSE DURING SEX

 

So one night, I’m plowing this chick missionary in my bedroom. Everything is going great. I’m fucking her hard and she loves it. I can tell that her next cum was going to be huge. I grabbed a handful of hair and whisper into her ears, “I want you to cum all over my cock.” As soon as I had articulated these words, she came thrashing around as she normally does till she fucking head-butted me. She hit me square in the nose. I was forced out of her and onto my desk across the room clutching my face. In complete shock, we both just stood there naked. Me with a broken nose expecting the blood to start running, and her recovering from an amazing orgasm, wondering if she should apologize or thank me.

Undaunted by the excruciating pain in my face, I took a swig of rum and coke and got back in there, quite literally. Luckily, my nose was not bleeding and figuring I didn’t really break it, I thought I could take the pain long enough to get mine. So after ten more minutes of sex and her not cumming, I start to notice she is staring at my nose. Realizing I hadn’t even seen myself in the mirror, I turn my head to the mirror on my closet. Gents, put a mirror on your closet door so no matter where you’re banging in your bedroom, you can line up the mirror.

I then notice how truly fucking crooked my nose was. In horror, I pull out and go to the bathroom to the sounds of her saying, “Yeah, sorry about your nose. I may be able to fix it.” You see she has a medical background, so she comes across this stuff all the time. The problem is, I hadn’t realized she had just graduated and had probably done this procedure once before if I was lucky. She applies her thumbs to my crooked ass nose and boooooom. She popped that fucker back in, and it looks OK. Kind of funny because when I nibble on her neck now I can feel how the tip of my nose never healed right. OK fine, it’s still crooked. You get what you pay for and in my case, my nose was fixed by a naked lube covered hotty who just came all over me. My nose fixed, I resolved to pay my medical bill with a few more cums and then go to sleep. I sucked back on another rum and coke, took the pain, and tagged it a few more times.

So class, remember when she breaks your nose during sex, take it like a Gentleman and get back in there. (As long as you’re not bleeding, because let’s face it, that would just be weird pounding a chick with blood all over your face like some horny zombie.)

42. ACCIDENTALLY ON PURPOSE

Well America book two is wrapping up. When I say that it’s 3/4 done which means 6 months-ish due to financial restraints. Tragically I’m still a carpenter and a poor one. But buy my book Playing Your Hand Right: Showing America How To Live tell your friends and make me a writer. In honor of book two coming out I will be releasing some of the chapters from the first book. If your new to my blog you only get the unedited drunken free writes here. For the full on copy you have to pay the terrible price of 3 dollars for a kindle copy 9 for print. Available on Amazon.com link follows. http://www.amazon.com/Playing-Your-Hand-Right-Showing/dp/1484829794/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1385767769&sr=8-1&keywords=playing+your+hand+right. As I was saying book two is almost done so in honor of that here are the professionally edited fully revised chapters of book one. So sit back, make a drink, pack your bowls and enjoy the first of many more to come. This is the last chapter in my first book Playing Your Hand Right: Showing America How To Live. Personally it is my favorite but I could probably say that about most of them. Leave me a comment below, I love feed back and if your feeling very adventurous try my first book.

42. ACCIDENTALLY ON PURPOSE

So one night, I invited a fuck buddy to come by for a night of kinky adulterism. I thought I was cool with all forms of sex till I met this chick. First she tried to finger my ass while blowing me. Not cool ladies. I felt a finger go from fondling balls to my no-no spot. After I removed my fingernails from the ceiling and climbed down, she explained to me that she had banged every guy she had been with. And I don’t mean bang in the good way. I told her not this horse. Line one found.

During another night of sexual shenanigans, she asked me to cut her with a dinner knife. Well, as well as she could ask through a ball gag while she was tied up in the entryway. I thought that would look great; the cops come in, see me with a dinner knife; woman tied up, death by thousand cuts, and boom: headshot. Thoughts of me being gunned down wearing nothing but a condom and holding a magic wand in one hand and a knife in the other was not exactly my kind of night. Also, the sight of blood makes me lightheaded and completely de-rected. Line two discovered.

During one night of sexcapades, I couldn’t recall which, we were having some drinks before the roll playing began. She would come in, bringing her bag of whatever hotness she would wear that night. We would catch up, have a few drinks, she would go change in the bedroom, I would set up that night’s fun, and it was on. Well, during one of these drinking and catching up chats we had a little bit more than usual to drink. I have a bar in my apartment, and I was behind it pouring champagne far too fast. We were talking, joking, having a good time; let’s face it ladies, I’m charming. I went to my fridge to get the third bottle of champagne, pull off the foil, wire, aim, fire.

Being the son of a chef and restaurant owner, I am normally one with the cork, but I try to refrain from firing one off in my apartment. You see, I’m a half-assed Buddhist and have a nice Buddha shrine in my living room. Buddha is cool with everything except being shot in the face with a cork and shattered on the floor. I call myself a half-assed Buddhist because I love Karma, but I treat my body like an amusement park, not a temple; hence half-assed.

So, there we are, hotness at the bar, me in the kitchen with a bottle in my hand and off goes the cork. Trying to impress her, I figure I will shoot the cork down my apartment and pour her a glass. In my haste, I didn’t aim properly, and the cork hit the wall across the room. I have both my hands on the bottle when I realize the cork has ricocheted off the wall and is coming straight at my eye at the speed of sound. I wondered what the trip to the hospital would be like. Yes, Doctor, I shot myself, but in my emotional throws, my suicide was foiled because instead of a gun I used a bottle of bubbly. How many times have I laughed at the warning labels on champagne bottles and the funny pictures of cartoons hitting themselves with a cork? Is it possible to have sex with a cork in my eye? I figured she would be a little turned off.

There I was, the “Master” trying to pour a glass of champagne for the “Slave” and the dipshit “Master” is going to blind himself with a cork. Premature corkulation. Why couldn’t my parents have said, “Be careful with the bottle of champagne; you’ll shoot your eye out?” I was great with the BB gun. The cork is getting closer to my face and now she realizes I’m about to be Kennedy-ed. Forget the magic bullet, look at this fucking cork. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her cover her mouth getting ready to laugh, scream, and sympathize. However, this turns out.

Suddenly, I realize time has stopped. I look at my dog, and a drop of drool is floating in the air below him frozen in time. A hummingbird is flying outside the window, and its wings are still.

All these thoughts and sights overwhelmed me, yet I couldn’t react to the damn cork about to headshot me. Frozen in time, unable to move, I awaited my inevitable corky fate. Time began again, and the cork closed in on its target. I braced for the impact of my masochistic bottle opening, when out of the corner of my eye I see a hand. Moving faster than a fat kid running down an ice cream truck, this hand rises to protect my face. I realize it’s my hand moving, and I’m drunker than I thought. I have somehow caught the cork.

Staring at my hand, like a kid who just caught his first fly ball, completely amazed by my subconscious drunken reflexes, I turn to her. She is sitting on the barstool staring at me as if I have just cured cancer while climbing Everest to save her from the abominable snowman. Wet as April. She couldn’t believe it. Had I done this on purpose or accident, she thought to herself. Is my “Master” really this good? Not sure what to do, I came to a sudden conclusion. I handed her the cork with all my misplaced bravado and simply said. “You like my new trick?” And it was on. 

I still try to catch the cork when no one is around…

I’m never even close.

As always long live the writers

Taylor Oceans

Link to Playing Your Hand Right: Showing America How To Live

http://www.amazon.com/Playing-Your-Hand-Right-Showing/dp/1484829794/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1385767769&sr=8-1&keywords=playing+your+hand+right

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Reflexes

Well America as you know I have gone legit.  Every dollar I have is legal. Whether this is good is still be determined but hey I figured I would give it a go. I will say Jesus you guys work a lot for very little money. Or at least the working class and that is where I find myself currently. Moving on.

Today me and my buddy were demoing a brick keystone arch. It was about 15 feet high so we had a basic ladder scaffold set up and are bashing the shit out of this wall drinking beer and having a normal day. It is a bud of mine and we combined our companies and can do just about any build you can think of. With epic lights should you choose that was my side of the biz. So brick wall, shaky scaffolding and terrible beer. Since masonry is my buds side of the biz and we both know carpentry he is point man on this job. We are trying to support some of this arch while we demo it in pieces so the entire thing does not fall and kill us. That is not the way I like to get stoned. So we have this crazy plan, or he did, and we went forward. For the record I said the entire thing would fall on us. I take out the support exactly as he said and Issac Newton covered his eyes with my Dad and everyone up in heaven watching the ridiculous life I lead. The support goes and my bud goes “O SHIT!!!!” The weight was to much and this idiot is trying to hold the entire thing himself.

This is when my reflexes take over. Before I know it instead of running for my life I’m under this fucking wall trying to hold it with my bud. So there we are 15 feet over cement on shitty scaffold with about 400 lbs of brick and mortar about to kill us. At least the shitty beer was safe in the cooler. (Side bar America. I don’t like to up products but the Yeti cooler will change your life.) My reflexes are running me and I still am not in control the Jedi in me is. Or Sith Lord Vader did a few good things. Just think a condom would have changed the entire movie.

Suddenly the arch gives. It is falling apart over us. Now since I was cutting the support I was not directly under this thing when the fun started. My bud is on my right, centered under this thing. My side caved first but he was under more of it so again reflexes take over. First they get me under this fucker instead of back at the beer cooler laughing saying I told you so as I call the ambulance. Now the arch is disintegrating around us and again I should have bailed off the ladder. A fifteen feet fall is much better then a fifteen feet fall with bricks coming down on top of you like the fucking Coyote. So the bricks are falling and my side caved and I dodged it. My bro is a bigger dude and not so fast. His side caves and his arms are still in the air holding two fucking bricks as this arch rains around him. Fucking Virginia Gentleman reflexes take over again and I shield his face from these big fucking bricks some still stuck together in big 8 brick 40 lbs fucking boulders with my left arm because my right is keeping me from falling.

So my left forearm fucking kills America and I typed this through the pain to tell you this before I drink to much and forget. Rum and coke now for the record. Fuck beer.

Our reflexes define us America. Fight or Flight mother fuckers. We are Americans bitch all of us should fight. In all walks of life. We should try new things and be afraid everyday. We should be more tolerant to each others ideas and beliefs. We should fight to preserve what freedoms we still have in this country because they are going fast America. We need to fight every day but not for ourselves we need to fight for each other. We need a weapon of mass construction. We need to fight to build a better America for us all. Also I wear condoms. Magnums for the record ladies. You dudes with kids should be the one telling me this message. Fight for those little bastards.

Long Live the Writers

Taylor Mother Fucking Oceans

Like what I wrote? Think I’m full of shit? Got a good story? Write in the comments below.

As always tell your friends about Taylor Oceans and should you want my book link below. Because I don’t edit this blog I write it. Surprisingly my book has a great rating on amazon but don’t listen to me read what America said about it link below.

http://www.amazon.com/Playing-Your-Hand-Right-Showing/dp/1484829794/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1385767769&sr=8-1&keywords=playing+your+hand+right

Buy a book I promise to spend it on women, drinks, and condoms. The rest I will spend irresponsibly.

I SEE FIRE

O America I see fire

Another tragedy is in my life. Haunted by nightmares for the last 25 days I face my end. 10 more nightmares to go. When I close my eyes I see my death. Why and how is not the point. I’m here to show you how to live and if necessary die as Gentleman. All I will say when all kneel at the end I will stand. I will be the one who takes it fighting with a smile. You should too. I stand for what I believe and I believe in myself. My destiny. Tragedy will always find you. Pity and apathy is for the weak. How you walk into the flames is what defines us as Gentlemen. Destiny is inevitable for us all. We all will lose, we all will fall. We all will die. The only thing we can be thankful for is the time a place. The time on this earth and a place to die. Know that whatever happens I will stand tall. I will not bow, I will not bend, I will look my fate in the eyes and roar. I’m a Gentleman. Stand with me America no matter what the cost. We are Americas the best country in the world its time we act like it.

Long Live the Writers

Taylor Mother Fucking Oceans

Our words are the only immortality we will have. Our dreams the only reality we will know.

The book is done america buy one and tell your friends

After three years of toil it is finally finished. The rough draft books are gone to the past. If your the one of 100ish who got one save it. It will be worth something some day. Thanks again for the great comments along with the one hater. You know you going somewhere when you have a hater stalker. So come one come all and enjoy my tales. A properly edited book for sale on Amazon.

If you don’t buy my book remember this. It is not the burden you deal with. We all have them. It is how you carry it that defines you. Walk tall with swagger America.

 

click the link below thanks for the reviews

 

http://www.amazon.com/Playing-Your-Hand-Right-Showing/dp/1484829794/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1385767769&sr=8-1&keywords=playing+your+hand+right

 

3 of 3 people found the following review helpful

Amazing

By dddedddxdxdFC SFXC ZDS F GETE:ETFEETEVVGEVTVEG GEWXSNXNEJBEXHBECEDVX DDHXVVX GJDVFHVJEJFGEVEHXHEVEHFA SJSJFC RCGRVCADYJRVRHBDGHD HUBRUHFDYVGGNFJGJDVD 

Format: Kindle Edition Verified Purchase

Absolutely loved this book. The tales were humorous yet so real. He has such an interesting outlook on life. Great writer, hope to see more.

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2 of 2 people found the following review helpful

Play it again Taylor

By Nikki K 

Format: Paperback

Taylor takes you with him on his adventures. His style of writing brings humor to the most simple of takes. Beer pong and dealers, sex toys and Mitzvahs, fires and and log rolling…oh my!

You’ll read about the boy turning to a gentleman. The kid turning to an adult. The Nieve turning experienced and all in 200 pages. This book is a compilation of stories that will grab your attention and make you take notice.

It’s not for the faint of heart and requires all who venture forth to strap in and keep your hands inside the car. Once the ride is moving there’s no turning back.

There is something in this book for everyone. The war with his friends. The fire that takes his eyebrows, the Valentines day special. For every vice a fix and every itch finds a scratch. From glass pipes to glass dil*** and glasses of scotch. College buddies and drug buddies and f*** buddies alike…Taylor proves life is there for the taking, you just grab hold and enjoy!

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2 of 2 people found the following review helpful

Everyone Loves A Bad Boy

By twa2r 

Format: Paperback

Secretly, we want what they have and we want to be able to do what they do. And this boy can get as bad as we can imagine. He does it with gusto and a sense of pride in ownership. He owns what he does and it makes him great! It makes us envious.

Where are our guts? Hidden deep within our limitations. Taylor exposes his inner self with no holds barred. Sexually, he sounds like Don Juan run wild. Who wouldn’t want to be in his shoes? Some of his statements make me feel like I’ve never even had sex, and I’m old and should have tried at least a few of his suggestions by now. Physically he is small, but there’s a Goliath beneath the tiny frame, and David would do well to run from this giant. He doesn’t give up and he doesn’t give in.

When can I have a drink with him? I want to hear and learn more.

Robert

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2 of 2 people found the following review helpful

Hilarious

By Keri B 

Format: Kindle Edition

I got this through CreateSpace and it’s effing hilarious. Hopefully this book does well enough through indie publishing that he can get picked up by a traditional publisher, because it’s a funny book and I see no reason why — with the marketing and editorial resources of a traditional publishing company — and it couldn’t reach a wider audience.

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2 of 2 people found the following review helpful

Well played

By Dave on 

Format: Kindle Edition Verified Purchase

As a follower of Ocean’s blog, I couldn’t wait for this book. It has become one of my beliefs that we should be as candid and open as possible and he’s done just that. Excellent stories and I never got bored reading it. I will say though that I’m not a fan of the last paragraph. You’re at a point where most people barely figure out that there is a life to be lived. You’ve kicked ass, taken names but what kind of stories do you think people want to hear about your next 27 years? Think twice about living that ‘family man’ life… Keep life amazing man!

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1 of 1 people found the following review helpful

laugh out loud funny, yet deep

By tamaramalya 

Format: Paperback Verified Purchase

Taylor is a classic American hero for the millennial generation — a rebel, an outlaw, a self made man, a Gentleman. His rambling collection of hilarious anecdotes interwoven with thoughtful yet tongue-in-cheek dimestore philosophy has a striking poignance to it, the sweep of an epic. This book is funny as hell and I was laughing out loud, but it also made me think (at times). There are some utterly brilliant lines here, on sex, drugs, rock and roll, and the like, real gems of insight.
This book was a charmer and I can’t wait for the movie version. I hope Taylor plays himself so I can get a look at that ladykiller.

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1 of 1 people found the following review helpful

Weird, funny, rather brilliant – laughed my way through this!

By Rose 

Format: Paperback Verified Purchase

I ordered this book, had no idea what to expect, opened it and found myself sitting there laughing my head off! Now the guy who wrote this obviously lives a lifestyle I have no idea about and don’t, well, totally approve of, but as drug-crazed, sex-soaked, alcohol-frenzied stories of wit and wisdom go, this is just genius!! I would recommend it to anyone with a funny bone.

LET THERE BE LIGHT

We are the ones in black. We are the few that entertain the many. The men and women behind the scenes. We make the lights work. Without the techies their would be no sound, no lights, no smoke, no fire, no foam, sets or stages. We are the few that make it happen. With long hours, great heights, power tools, complicated boards, miles of wire, hot lights, and short circuits. We are the sweaty, the chafed, the deaf, the dumb tired, hung over and underpaid. We are the stage hands, light board operators, sound guys, light guys, pyro guys, drum techs, guitar tuners, truck drivers, carpenters, electricians, props, and costumes. We don’t sing, we don’t dance, and we are not here for your amusement. We are here to work and hit the after party. We stir our drink with our dirty stage hands and cheers to those not seen. We bleed, we are electrocuted, we are crushed, smashed, rolled over, impaled, driven over, blinded, burned, broken and we don’t stop the work. “The show must go on!” is our battle cry but you will never hear it. Break a leg and Merde is our luck. When the plan fails we fix it. And you never know we were there. What can go wrong, will go wrong, our prayer. We laugh at problems. The sky is the limit, and if you can imagine it we can build it, wire it, hang it, fly it, hid it, rig it, and make it appear in a crowded stadium from nowhere. We can pack it on a truck, drive it across the country, and whip it out in an hour for all your eyes to see.

Your Welcome
The Techies

Not my normal thing America but who the hell knows why any of us write what we do. I guess we write what we know and my part time, hobby job, that keeps me in shape, sharp, and covered in saw dust, turned into a fucking work fest for the past month. Fucking beat America but it was my major in college right up to the point SWAT kicked in my door. You never know where life will take you. So sit back, pour a drink, get a blow job and enjoy the ride America. There are no redoes.