Category Archives: love

Bring out your dead…

Here at Casa Tattooed Psycho, the plague has settled in. Started a week ago with Oldest developing a cough that sounded something akin to a barking seal. By Saturday, Psycho Momia was down and out. Oldest drifts in and out of being sick, never leaving the barking cough behind. We’ve kept her out of school for the whole week. Amazingly, she hasn’t fought it at all. But then again, I don’t think she knows that she is on Vaca next week.
Youngest succumbed on Monday – she seems to have been the one whom is handling it the best. Just the occasional cough, and the perpetual running nose.
I lasted until Tuesday night, while at work, of course. Made me a cranky mofo, and I chewed out a noob who really didn’t deserve it. Sorry, Jeremy. I’m a dick when I’m sick. (shut up, you. I am not a dick all the time!) I’ve basically been a waste of oxygen since Wednesday morning.

On happier things – while we always say we aren’t going to “do” the Vday thing, we usually get something small for each other. Being as I was miserably sick for most of the week, I came up empty handed. However, Psycho Momia got me a sweet card, and a joyous piece of chocolate. I can’t wait to sink my teeth into it.

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A Red Fire Flaming Chocolate Heart from Vosges Chocolates. I’ve had their excellent Bacon Bar, to much joy.

Sadly I must wait to enjoy it…

A Thousand Little Pricks…

Some peeps have asked about my tagline: “A Thousand Little Pricks…”
What does it mean?
It means many things.
Getting a tattoo is a series of little pinpricks, after which you are rewarded with a piece of art.
Making a baby is the result of a thousand little pricks swimming upstream until they find the egg and pierce it.
Children can be little pricks.
Parenting is a thousand little pricks of happiness, sadness, hope and despair. Each day as a parent you feel each and every one.

My original hopes for this site was to be a gathering place for non trad dads – writers, musicians, actors, artists, the guy who works overnights, so he can be home with his kids during the day. The programmer who works from home so he can be available to his kids. The salesman who has to travel, and be away from his kids – and hates every minute of it.
That brings us to the last meaning: every dad is (sometimes) a prick (just ask their wives). The men, the fathers, the dads I wanted to gather together in a support system – a learning system –
they are

A Thousand Little Pricks.

Together, we can be more. We can change the way the society looks at men who care for their children first, and conventional “wisdom” last.

12 years in Love, 7 years in bliss

12 years ago today, a beautiful woman consented to go out for a drink with me – after a full year doing everything to get her to take me seriously – short of clubbing her over the head like the proverbial caveman.
Five years later, minus three weeks or so, we were having a “heated discussion” that somehow turned into a mutual proposal. We told almost no-one what we were up to, got our state mandated bloodwork done, and stood together in front of a Magistrate in the Newton City Hall. Some would say that it wasn’t very romantic – but I’d say they lack heart. It was the most magical moment in my life. Our vows still ring in my mind, and I’ve not felt empty since.
I never wanted to get married – but somehow, someway, somewhere deep inside, marrying her was everything I ever wanted.
Our life together is not perfect. Our life together is not common. What it is, is ours. And I’d have it no other way.

Thank you for being my wife, and allowing me to be your Husband.

Without a Mask

I lie my head upon your breast
The warmth of your blood bathes me
And lays my fears to rest
Since we’ve come together
You’ve shown my eyes sights unseen
Brought life back to my dreams
Fanned the fires of my fantasies
Driven the ice black cold from my heart
I feel unlike I’ve ever felt
Physical emotional spiritual
Ecstasy beyond explanations
No need for words at your touch
My eyes tracing your face
Bring me far away
As my fingertips glide
Over your graceful curves
I become blank to all
But that touch
To bring you pleasure without censure
Is my beloved wish
When our souls meet
I am you you are me
Goddess and god
Complete as one
I can feel
I can love
I can live
Without a mask
Within you
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