The Batting Cages

    I had just turned fifteen, had no money, and since I didn’t want to get stuck driving the rusty hatchback rotting on the side of my parent’s house, I got a job working at the local batting cages. Most of the time, I just chain smoked behind a tattered net, watching the softball girls in their tight spandex shorts. The college guys that worked inside the shop were amazed by how much I smoked for fifteen and my habit earned me the nickname “Smokey.” Continue reading

Expensive Brownies

    I stirred a bowl filled with gooey brownie batter as my accomplice Christian looked over my shoulder. “So how much should we put in?” I held up a zip-lock bag filled with pot. I had just graduated high school, moved out on my own, and was ready to try any mind altering substance that came my way. Continue reading

Gang Shooting

If you ever doubted my ‘Old Pat’ stories, here’s a little video to add to my street cred.  When I was about 19 two blood gangs started fighting at a warehouse party we were throwing and a guy started shooting into the crowd while I was filming. My friend Christian (aka. Meatball) was shot in both legs. Police swarmed the scene while another friend almost got in a fight outside, but you can only hear it because I stopped filming to break it up…Thug life.