I'm not even sure what the tennis balls do.

I'm just gonna put this out there now, in case I forget before it's too late. Consider it part 1 of my living will. Well, part 2. Part 1 is that when I'm old and you're taking care of me, I don't wanna wear any bullshit birthday party cone hats. Oh, and don't go buying me stupid "Shit that happened in the year you were born" greeting card things. Fuck off with that. Real gifts till I'm dead. Anyway.

Part 3 of Ryan's living will: I'm working on getting pretty fit, so I'm looking to be fit when I'm elderly too. I'm gonna Paul Newman that shit. Might even Sean Connery it. Gonna be fun. But, just in case I sprain an ankle in my Old Dudes Ultimate Frisbee tournament or something and have to use a walker, even temporarily, how about we just skip the whole tennis balls thing, okay? There's no dignity in that. I'm sure I can manage the walker just fine on my own.

Write that down, cause I'm not kidding.

Love you guys,

Ryan B