What the f***? It’s what came out of my mouth when I heard we lost the voice of the Freak Nation, Sam O’Neil, last week. You hear him at the top of every radio and TV show, in every radio and TV break and in every bump to and bump out of break on the radio show. Sam had balls of a rhino and he showed them off with his pipes.

Sam, like Mama Nuttz, Benny Parsons and Bobby Hamilton Sr., lost his life to cancer. Something so ruthless that, like many other diseases, I can’t wrap my lil’ol brain around its arbitrary selection.

Cancer wrote the book on nondiscrimination. You could spend 26 hours a day drinking, eating and sleeping right, 50 SPF’n, helping the poor, driving a Prius, growing your own veggies and it could still swoop in on you like butt-ugly coyote looking for a bone.

There are miles and miles of web sites, help groups, scientific studies and non profit organizations on the planet, in as many languages, but hell, I really can’t really grasp cancers premise. Can you?

I can say people who devote their time to cancer research or awareness are real freakin’ mercenaries. Their only weapon is the cause. And Richardson, Texas’ own Lindsey Adams is helping man, or, wo-man the front lines.

The twenty-year-old has dedicated her racing career to raising breast cancer awareness. Not because of her. It’s her mom. A double mastectomy saved her life three years ago.

Lindsey doesn’t race in some splashy series you’ll see on SportsCenter. It’s the Skip Barber racing series. Right. How much awareness can that garner? Enough. She is now a spokesperson for the National Breast Cancer Foundation. Game, set, match…props.

For more on Lindsey, check out the Dallas Morning News article from Emily Goldstein.

Cancer. Ruthless man, ruthless.

That's what I Freakin' think.

You?

Shoot me an email @ kennys@speedfreaks.tv or give me a holler at the office 818-995-9159.