Surprise, surprise, surprise.
Nothing like taking your phone out of airplane mode at 5:33am to see that “Hey, man, need a favor” text from your favorite jam band loving, stolen truck driving, god of a man Riptide. But that’s what we do, right? Pick a man up when he’s down, take his Q when the M is sick. Being freed to lead means stepping up and doing it.
And so, gentlemen and scholars, and Callahan, I arrived at Claymore for the first time ever, ready to do what I do best: bringing the pain and concussive-like symptoms.
[Read More]