Jag is just a hot mess when he's hammered, “I’s got a ***k.” He stumbles out of my arms. I dart around him and open my passenger side door, so all he has to do is flop down. “Look.” I turn to see Jag with his pants down, waving his ***k at me." Jag just always overshares with people, “it’s a darn serious health issue at this point. Can’t waltz into the octagon with Woody Woodpecker jabbing through my fighting shorts.” I loved this book, Jag was everything the man never took anything seriously.
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