Some people collect stamps. I collect near-death experiences. Like the time I swam after a tube floating out to sea, only to realize seconds later that the wind and waves had me outmatched. I’m a former ocean lifeguard—nine years, high school distance swimmer—and I knew better. Yet there I was, seconds from having to float and hope. Water isn’t something to fuck with. It’s patient, it’s powerful, and it always wins. Now picture all the other boneheaded moves I’ve made…
The Narrative
Voluntarily Jumping into a Medium That Wants to Kill You
Swimming is peak human stupidity. We walk on land, where we belong. Then we choose to enter a substance that can drown us, freeze us, crush us, or just plain wear us out. We don’t have to do it. We could just… not. But no, here we are, splashing around like we own the place. The water is laughing. It’s always laughing.Giving Water the Respect It Deserves (By Staying Away)
I avoid bodies of water. Not out of fear, but out of respect. If I woke up and a family of sharks was chilling in my living room, I’d be pissed. So I stay out of their “house”—the ocean, the river, the lake—and they stay out of mine. It’s a simple agreement. I break it at my own risk.The Moment You Realize You’re Fucked
I used to watch those “I Survived” shows. Always the same: the slow dawning that, oh fuck, this is actually happening. I’ve had that moment. It’s not dramatic TV music—it’s the sudden, cold clarity that your body is giving out and the environment isn’t stopping. It’s the worst feeling in the world. And it’s entirely preventable.
The Baking Soda, Vinegar, and Bleach Incident
Poured baking soda, then vinegar, down a clogged drain. When that didn’t work, I added drain cleaner—because why not? Fun fact: drain cleaner can have bleach. The resulting chemical volcano didn’t just burn my eyes—it taught me a lesson about pride and plumbing. Don’t be me.The Time I Almost Became Shark Chow
Rafting the Zambezi in high-water season. Fell out at the start of a Class V rapid. The current was stronger than my lifejacket. I ran the whole thing underwater, missed boulders, dodged crocodiles, and popped up five seconds before I blacked out. That’s the only time I’ve truly thought, “This is it.” The water doesn’t care how brave you are. It doesn’t care how strong you are. It only cares about physics—and you’re not part of the equation.
Crocs Are the Real Villains Here
Crocodiles wig me out. After hearing about the kayaker pulled right out of his boat in Africa? Yeah, no thanks. There’s nothing you can do. No fight, no flight—just over. They’re apex predators that have been perfecting murder for 200 million years. They don’t make mistakes. You’re not a mistake.The Time I Almost Blew My Ears Off
Playing with mortar fireworks as a kid. Big sand pile, Home Depot bucket, “brilliant” idea to light it while I sat on it. First boom: face-plant into the sand. Second boom: directly above my head. Deafness, tinnitus, lost hair, bloody nose. The cops came, saw the wreckage, and left. Boys will be boys—especially in Florida.Ignoring the Warning Signs (Until It Was Too Late)
Ignored signs that my period wasn’t normal. Now I’m going through cancer treatment. Go to the doctor, folks. Seriously. Your body is trying to tell you something. Don’t wait until it screams.The Time I Played with My Life on Ketamine
Blackout drunk, massive dose of ketamine. Out-of-body experience: watching myself on the bed, a golden “yarn” ball coming out of my chest. I could move it away from me—and the further it got, the better I felt. I played with it for a bit. Then it hit me: I was playing with my life. I snapped back just in time.The Time I Became My Dad (Without Knowing How)
Dad was an electrician. He got sick, passed away. His phone kept ringing. Young, arrogant, high school dropout me started taking his jobs. Driving his van, walking into jobsites, replacing fuse boxes with circuit breakers—zero formal training, just watching him. I pulled it off. Now I own an electrical business. Some of his old friends see me and say, “Your dad would be so proud you followed in his footsteps.” They have no idea I’m a fraud. It helps that we share a name.
You think you’re invincible. You think you’re different. But the truth is, we’re all just one dumb decision away from becoming a statistic. The water doesn’t care. The chemicals don’t care. The crocodiles don’t care. Only you care—and by the time you realize that, it might be too late. So maybe, just maybe, it’s time to start caring a little sooner.