Those that are goofy enough to believe the outrageous lies and hate spewed about me in the mind-numb media are inconsequential and pathetic. Those that know me are certain of my goodness and connect with me deeply.
When we learn from our cause and effect we increase our positives, we chip away and hopefully eliminate our negatives, so we can be beneficial to everyone else. It's not about being good for me, it's about being the best that I can be so I can be a good husband, father, and neighbor.
I'm stoned on my music. I'm intoxicated by my joyful calendar between the tours, and the hunting, and the charity work, and the family time, and just my lifestyle living on a ranch in Texas and back when I lived on my ranch in Michigan. It's the epitome of individual independence, self-sufficiency, hands-on, earthly celebration and we tour every summer like complete animals.
I'm such a lucky guy. I've been able to make my own decisions for my own life for the last fifty years...or sixty ... well maybe not sixty. Even though I think I was making my own decisions at the tender age of eight.
If the American public were accurately polled, I suspect the results would find Bonnie & Clyde, Bill Clinton, Ponzi Scheme scamster Bernie Madoff, and the infamous Wily Coyoteto be believed to be more honest and trustworthy than Hillary Clinton.
I'm the gun guy, a loud guitar Dirty Harry with a ponytail.
Let's be honest, if the Democrats didn't support ignoring our nation's immigration laws, there is no way they could win the presidency or a local dog catcher election.
My worst song is stimulating beyond words. My best songs are downright scary.
I stop and think what they call "punk rock" today...give me a break! Let me know when they can walk in the vapor trail of Little Richard, which was punk. You've got a gay black guy with a pompadour singing about tutti frutti with your white girl. Fuck you.
