The 2 Cups 1 Guy

It’s not what you may think…

Get your mind out of the gutter…or not..

You do you, boo boo.

Anyway …

New year….new me…

Which is a statement I have never uttered before.

Yet, here I am.

I’ve always had back pain.

Work, injuries…just general age related stuff on top of that.

I don’t like chiropractors. My experience is they are pain givers. The more cracks the better.

I’ve never had a professional massage.


I don’t like paying people to touch me.

My younger than me wife suggested something different..

Back Cupping Therapy

New year new me so why not.

It consists of 2 Cups connected to a suction thingie that raises the skin in different places on the back to ease pain, stress and the like.

Here is what my back looked like after the session…

The top of my spine was a bit bruised afterward. Coincidentally, that’s where a lot of my pain resides.

New year new me.

It was also suggested to drink lots of water.

If cut back my sugar and caffeine intake by about 80 percent.

By February I hope to be off all sugar and caffeine drinks.

New year new me.

Quit smoking cigarettes as well. 30 years of it is more than enough.

Change ain’t all that bad.

As always…

It’s good to be gone….that’s why I go.


The Hold On

The bridge between pain and relief
Loses strength the longer it takes to cross

I’m letting my emotions run their course
Before I make the walk

It started with the sadness of what will never be
Transformed into anger not at the person but at the situation we didnt foresee

A guarantee of an outcome
A mind that changed with time
At least she made the decision
Before the end of nine

The days will pass
That bridge I’ll cross
The memories will remain

Piece of mind
Must overtake adversity
Acceptance over pain

The Unforgiving

My pain is veiled
By an unbreakable smile
Attained over years of
Shattered expectations
And treacherous miles

It hides the insecurities
Broken promises
And truths

Of a life spent learning
From the seat
Of a dunking booth

Jokes and humor
The cries and screams

Of a child being
Manipulated for
Unspeakable things

Adulthood of substance
In excess
And abuse

Until an ultimatum
Forced a cold hard

The pain may not change
The veil may always remain
But the miles are behind me
As is the blame

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)