The heat is finally getting to me. Today, at work, I forgot my age.

Let me explain….

My boss and I were working and some kids came by, trying to sell crap that kids in school sell for trips and…crap.

He’s a sucker…and likes to help out where he can so he bought whatever it was that they were selling.

I looked at him said,

“Ha Ha sucker. We aren’t even from this town. What are buying stuff from high school kids for?”

He replied,

“They weren’t in high school. They are in college and are taking donations for the homeless shelter, so I gave them a few bucks.”

I retorted,

“College? They didn’t look a day over 14….”

I’m tired of using words other than “said” so I am just switching to him and me…


“You are just getting old and can’t determine age anymore..how old are you anyway….42? 43?”


“…….I can’t remember….hold on.”
And I took out my phone.


“Are you looking up your birthday? You are older than I thought…”


“No, smartass. I’m using the calculator to figure out how old I am…”

I paused and looked at him straight faced…or dumbfounded…pretty much the same thing and asked

“What year are we in?”

He shook his head and walked away.

This made me realize….

It’s not the heat.



The Nipple Overture

I have woke up with pain in different areas of my body over the last few years. Age being a factor. Working in construction being another. I suppose not adequately taking care of myself over the years might somehow factor into the equation.

This morning I woke up and my nipples hurt….


That reaction brought back a memory and coincidentally one of the many reasons on why I stopped drinking.

Its not like I recently had them pierced or anything like that. I have way to much respect for my man nipples to…do….that…to…myself….

Ok, so maybe that’s not true.

One night in Juarez, Mexico….while drinking heavy amounts of tequila, I pierced my own nipple with a safety pin…..


Hold on…hold on…it’s not like I wasn’t safe about it.

I numbed my nipple at the bar with ice, as curious onlookers and non English speaking bartenders began to gather, as the safety pin was being sterilized in a shot of freshly poured rot gut tequila.

SAFETY FIRST!! I always say.

After having a female friend of mine flick my nipple with her long nails to make sure I could not feel anything. I picked up the safety pin out of the shot glass, and plunged it through. Then closed it.

A little blood

A little light headed

A little woozy

I put my shirt back on and then drank the congratulatory / you are a idiot shots that kept coming.

All was well until I tried to go to sleep after getting home.

Each time I rolled over…the safety pin would turn over causing excruciating pain in my man nipple.

I woke up my room mate who was passed out halfway on the couch and halfway on the floor and began babbling about pain. His response was similar to this….


We weren’t in costume…because that would have been wierd…..

I was told to man up and take it out. I looked stupid with a safety pin in my nipple.

So I unhooked it from it’s clasp, and yanked it out…

A little more blood

A little more light headed

A lot more woozy

Oh yeah… And this..


Not an actual picture of me but the expression is accurate.

For the next 6 months I walked around with 1 erect nipple that was more sensitive than a 2 year old without his blanket.

And yes I was called cyclops.

And that is reason # 27 of why I stopped drinking.

(Not my nipple…because an actual picture of me with a pierced nipple would once again just be wierd)

My Drink of Choice

Wisdom comes from failure and experience. At least that is my belief. As I have grown older, my failures have taught me that my drinking habits has to change. I used to have the motto-

“Try everything once…..sometimes repeatedly just to be sure I don’t have a taste for it.”

How times have changed…..

With all the choices in drink that line the shelves I have limited myself to 1.

I have a bottle in my truck.

I have a bottle in my kitchen.

I keep one stashed in the back of the medicine cabinet.

I even have one next to my bed… In case I need a shot in the middle of the night.

“From there to here, from here to there, those funny things are everywhere.”

It’s not Black Velvet

It’s not Johnny Walker Red, Black or Blue

It’s not Grey Goose

The color is distinct and is surely a tell.
It comes with a shot glass to make me feel well.
It eases the heartburn and helps calm my nerves.
It keeps my stomach from throwing a curve.

I will reveal the name
Although I’m sure you must know
Pepto Bismol is my cure
For my daily woes.