One of my lower molar gave out on me last night. Of all things a tiny but rock hard guava seed was its undoing. Chewing through the soft bits of the fruit, I suddenly found pieces of enamel and filling. A good chunk of the tooth had crumbled away!
What I ended up with was a fractured tooth with a very sharp edge. It was like having a razor blade in my mouth whenever my tongue brushed against it. This afternoon I did something that I have avoided doing for the past 10 years. Go to a dentist.
I confessed my sin to her and she smiled bemusedly. I asked for local anesthesia like a nervous school girl and to her credit she did not burst out laughing.
In an attempt to appear calm and composed I laced the fingers of my hands together and placed them on my midriff. While she was digging away at my destroyed molar, I found my fingers dancing up and down with every stab. Truth be told, it was not that bad but having a metal instrument with a tapering end poking around the inside of my head is not my idea of fun.
After what seemed like an eternity of torture she declared that we were done. Like the proverbial bat I was out if that hell in no seconds flat.
“Don’t forget your appointment in 2 weeks time!” she trilled behind me. What a witch!
Above the screams of children who know no better, the confused chatter of brainwashed adults and fittingly new age muzak, Jim Jones chides and cajoles his flock to drink cyanide-laced grape juice in 1978.
Put this on your iPod if you dare and let the man who convinced close to one thousand human beings to end their lives and those of their children, get into your head. Not for the faint-hearted.
After about 5 weeks, I am again in the throes of another bout with the flu and this time around to make things more colorful, I have an irritating hacking cough and a throat like sandpaper.
It leaves me with no option but to come to the conclusion that this year’s flu vaccine DOES NOT work. This is what I have resorted to.
Yes, roots. I have gone native. I am in the process of boiling the above concoction and will be downing the resultant “tea” in a very short while. Wish me luck people.
After my post on smoking, I received a few indignant comments from people who insists on deluding themselves about the effects of second hand smoke. If what they are saying is true then they might want to read how one man was awarded GBP 50, 000 for his work-related health problems.
If that is not enough, please also consider the fact that most parts of the United Kingdom have banned smoking in public places. Need I say more?
Tired of Firefox and memory leakage? Safari not doing it for you? Don’t even get me started on Internet Explorer.
Instead give Webkit a spin. As I understand it, it’s an open source fork of Safari and pretty much looks and feels like the latter. Only it has swallowed a bunch of steroids and can run rings around Safari in the speed department. Built natively for the Mac, I don’t know how it hangs with Windows but there’s a port for that particular OS if you are so inclined
Personally I find smoking a disgusting habit. It is a common sight to see a father puffing out a cloud of death around toddlers and babies with nary a thought for the effects of second hand smoke.
So what is the elected government doing about it? Not much according to a statement by no less than the UN.
In its first comprehensive report on tobacco use in 179 countries, the U.N.s health agency said governments around the world collect more than $200 billion in tobacco taxes every year but spend less than one-fifth of 1 percent of that revenue on tobacco control, it said.
Recently WHO launched its Report on the Global Tobacco Epidemic, 2008 highlighting the infiltration of the scourge into the developing world. Download the full report here.
In another few hours time the annual exodus begins. Yes the Chinese lunar year comes to an end and to celebrate the inevitable new one, we will drive a good 300 kms to the homestead. In fact many have already started their journeys yesterday. Like a flock of birds forming a perfect V in the sky, we point our compasses homewards, guided by memories, old habits and expectations.
What ever happens, one thing is for sure; food orgies! Bring it on Mum!