I thought I would grow up to be a secret agent. Women with incredible bodies would want me inside of them. I would kill bad spies often with a hail of enemy bullets coming right at me. With one shot of my shiny black revolver I would kill them. My love-making would be legendary. My gambling winnings in the millions. One night sleeping with a woman whose name was Pussy Galore. I thought I would be Bond, James Bond. Killer, Lover, Good shot. This never came about. We always have our dreams.
I am grateful for my dog. He gives me unconditional love like no other.
I am grateful for my car. Without it I might have to call Uber.
I am grateful for my food. Nothing has provided more satisfaction in my life than food.
I am grateful for Netflix. Since quitting pot, Netflix has helped me escape reality.
I am grateful to be alive. Passing away and going to my eternal rest is not yet appealing.