Fluids
I'm trying hard not to drool as one side of my face slowly comes back to life. Yes, today I visited my friendly dentist again.
It was meant to be just a check-up, but whilst guddling around in there, he found some caries* and offered to do instant fillage. I was somewhat pleasantly surprised by the offer, though not by the necessity. Normally the dentist is booked solid for months in advance, but today must have been a no-sweetie day in Aberystwyth. The waiting room was empty on my arrival and I didn't even have time to finish the article in the Cambrian News about how they're going to make Llanddewi Brefi a heritage sight thanks to Little Britain** before my name was called and I had to climb the sinister stairs*** to the surgery.
So not a busy dentist, and he was able to fix up my tooth there and then.
It's not all that long since the last time I had to have a filling, but the march of progress in dentistry goes ever onwards, and today I was treated to all manner of new-fangled devices and techniques. I was particularly impressed by the blue light they shone on the amalgam to get it to set. Very high tech. And I was given a pair of safety specs to wear during the procedure. Actually that was a bit of a worry; they're normally the sort of thing I wear when using the chainsaw.
I left the dentist less than half an hour after walking in, £39 lighter of pocket and drooling slightly from the left hand side of my mouth. Still, that's not bad service at all, even if the NHS is supposed to be free.
On returning to the car, however, I found that the most incontinent of Aberystwyth's population of seagulls had used it as a convenient toilet. I've never seen so much fishy poop in my life, spread in a great gobbety arc from the left hand headlight, over the bonnet and windscreen, across the roof and down the right hand flank. There was some on the pavement too. That poor bird must have lost half its body weight in one movement. It would have shot upwards from a combination of rear-end thrust and massive lightening of load.
And the bastard only picked my car because I'd just washed it.
flying shitbag
* it's an odd word, caries.
** I'm not making it up.
*** they turn to the left.
It was meant to be just a check-up, but whilst guddling around in there, he found some caries* and offered to do instant fillage. I was somewhat pleasantly surprised by the offer, though not by the necessity. Normally the dentist is booked solid for months in advance, but today must have been a no-sweetie day in Aberystwyth. The waiting room was empty on my arrival and I didn't even have time to finish the article in the Cambrian News about how they're going to make Llanddewi Brefi a heritage sight thanks to Little Britain** before my name was called and I had to climb the sinister stairs*** to the surgery.
So not a busy dentist, and he was able to fix up my tooth there and then.
It's not all that long since the last time I had to have a filling, but the march of progress in dentistry goes ever onwards, and today I was treated to all manner of new-fangled devices and techniques. I was particularly impressed by the blue light they shone on the amalgam to get it to set. Very high tech. And I was given a pair of safety specs to wear during the procedure. Actually that was a bit of a worry; they're normally the sort of thing I wear when using the chainsaw.
I left the dentist less than half an hour after walking in, £39 lighter of pocket and drooling slightly from the left hand side of my mouth. Still, that's not bad service at all, even if the NHS is supposed to be free.
On returning to the car, however, I found that the most incontinent of Aberystwyth's population of seagulls had used it as a convenient toilet. I've never seen so much fishy poop in my life, spread in a great gobbety arc from the left hand headlight, over the bonnet and windscreen, across the roof and down the right hand flank. There was some on the pavement too. That poor bird must have lost half its body weight in one movement. It would have shot upwards from a combination of rear-end thrust and massive lightening of load.
And the bastard only picked my car because I'd just washed it.
flying shitbag* it's an odd word, caries.
** I'm not making it up.
*** they turn to the left.
Comments
That's one moldy tangerine, btw.