How's life, you ask. Pretty good—so far.

Been shot at, dunno by who. An accident, maybe, but sure felt personal. Crack—then flit-it-it, as the bullet passed through the leaves just over my head.

Run down twice, once on a bike, once on a motorcycle. That time on the cycle, guy hit me twice before I went down. Good thing I wasn't going fast.

Not to mention, totaling two motorcycles and three cars. Each time, walked away without a scratch. Well, did need a few stitches after rolling that VW. That thing just kept tumbling over and over, each time the roof caving in a little more. Kept steering well into the first roll.

Used to hook up live electrical services.  Once did a 600 amp—in the rain. Hair on my arms was standing up.  No shit.

Connected a live sewer, hunched in a trench so narrow I couldn't turn my shoulders. 12 feet above, a backhoe straddling the ditch, hydraulic fluid dripping down my neck. 

How's this for a scene of hell, demoing a big mechanical room, working in a cloud of asbestos, carrying a trough of sloshing PCB's—god knows where it got dumped. Me, with a Lucky between my lips.

And one time, dared an angry woman to pull the trigger on a 12 gauge loaded with buck. Don't keep guns any more, or date redheads.

Yeah, life is good—so far.