A Shotgun Marriage of my a**hole and my neck

“…People say ya look like M.C. Hammer on crack, Humpty
That’s all right ’cause my body’s in motion
It’s supposed to look like a fit or a convulsion…”

It’s either 20 of 12 or 20 of 6.  I doesn’t matter.   I feel it.  I taste it. It’s my a**hole being pulled up towards my belly button.  It’s also my neck being sucked down into my a**hole.  An unseen force is trying to wed my a** with my back, and I don’t take too kindly to this shotgun wedding.

Guilty as charged.  I’ve unleashed this beast.  When you poke a big dog with a big stick, expect it to bite back big. Full bore unencumbered muscle spasms. My mid-section is shaking more than Michael A. Fox on a Celebrity Cruise to Alaska.   I feeling like that dude in Digital Underground’s  Humpty Dance video. (shout out to Mike Finch for this).

This all a byproduct of my weekend regime aimed at core fitness.

“Take things slow” the Mrs says.  I reference the “1983 Christmas tree incident.”  That piehole shuts quickly.

Metaxalone.  My current cure for the civil war between North and South.  Finally peace returns to my body…until 5:40 when the thrill ride begins again.

Calling in enforcements from Dr  C.   I can see Baclofen at 40 clicks.

Post Script:   Mrs. Neidermeyer arrived with the Baclofen.   Peace is returning to the kingdom