candice

In a roughneck strip joint in Boone County West Virginia, I used to go by the name, Trixie . For 3 straight years I was the reigning champion of the "Hog Festival Annual Mud Wrestling Tournament". No woman or man was ever able to best me in the mudpit and almost every adversary left my wallow limping and bleeding. That is until that fateful day when my whole life came crashing down. It all started after a long night of tequila bodyshots with the local motorcycle gang "Satan's Cowtippers - Chapter 32". On my way home, I was pulled over by the Sheriffs Dep. and charged with driving while intoxicated, resisting arrest, assaulting a police officer, indecent exposure and posession of illegal steroids. The next day I was stripped of my mud wrestling crown and Family Services put my illegitamate son into a foster home (since we've only been able to narrow down the list of potential fathers to 13). I spent the next year in a county jail serving a 6 month sentence. A broken shell of my former self I tried desperately to return to the workforce, picking up the pieces of what was left of the life I'd lost. I had a brief romantic encounter and an 8 month marriage to a 300 pound truckdriver named Buck. After dating for a week we rushed right into marriage and tried to co exist. Life on the open road taught me alot and while riding on 18 wheels and Buck I realized that I needed to finally make a change in my life. Somewhere outside of Amarillo, Texas, I bought a self help audio book at an ex whorehouse turned truckstop called Lucky 13 and hopped a greyhound to Georgia leaving behind Buck, self doubt and regret.