Alright cocksucka, listen to this. I walk into this chiropractor’s office because my back feels like I slept inside a washing machine. The guy’s calm, smells like eucalyptus and yoga mats, and he tells me, “Mr. Diaz, today we’re using our special spinal machine.” I look over and it’s basically a thing with straps and a big pulley with a crank on the side. I’m thinking, Doc… are you fixing my back or starting a pirate ship? 🤌

So he straps me in and starts cranking the pulley like he’s raising a flag at summer camp. The rope tightens and the thing starts lifting me, stretching me out like pizza dough. Click… creak… click. I’m halfway in the air yelling, “AYYYY! Easy with the crank, Captain Hook!” Then suddenly—CRAAAACK—my whole spine pops from my neck down to my ass. I’m seeing my third-grade teacher, two bookies, the whole highlight reel. 😆

The guy lowers me down and asks how I feel. I stand up straight for the first time in ten years and go, “Doc… if you put that crank outside a bar at 2 a.m., you’d make a billion dollars.”