Photographed by Tambako the Jaguar

Another picture of the mother cheetah and again licking her nose, I already got a few such pictures during previous visits but I like her eyes on this shot.

Picture taken in the zoo of Basel.

– License

Joy came to me.  I said, Now?  But yes is joy’s only word.  The wind says yes.  The earth says yes.  Even the distant sea says yes.  Under the waves the many armed yes, which clutches everything says, Yes.  Then two yeses meet when a shipwreck drowns.  Here, on dry land or here, in the trees, the singing yeses desire flight.  Joy lies on the ground.  It is a seed.  Now it unfolds on my tongue.  I listen for the rain.  Its pattering says, yes, yes, yes.  And yes came to me, and I was ready for its word.  When I was a boy, there were no end of noes.  But now my body floods with yeses even to the noes.

tongue tale text©2009, Raj Arumugam; pictures:wikipedia

(poem 3 of 3 in series: Tongue Poems series)

1
when I was six
just before I left my village in India
for the last time
my five-year-old girlfriend
and I huddled together in the cow-shed
and she whispered gently into my ears:
I shall miss your tongue
in my mouth;
keep it fresh with a tongue-cleaner
till you return
for we must have again
our tongues in each other’s  mouth

2
now I wonder
where she is
for though I’ve never been back to my village or to India
and have retained our village tradition
of a tongue kept clean, sharp and supple
with the use of a tongue-wiper,
my informants tell me
she’s not to be found in the village
nor does anyone know what happened to her family;
perhaps, I wonder, if she is lost amongst the millions
in Mumbai or in Delhi
or perhaps she too was set adrift
in the Indian diaspora
and is perhaps now in the UK, or the US
or even in some remote European country
or perhaps as close to me as the next state Down Under

3
and sometimes too as I recall her tongue in my mouth
I wonder with jealousy what foreign tongue she explores now
or what foreign tongue now resides in her mouth
or perhaps she is tongue-tied now
for she might have lost all her teeth;
but still I desire one day
to meet my tongue-friend from my childhood
and perhaps when we meet
we will greet each other with our tongues in each other’s mouth
and if our spouses rage or try and pull us apart;
I’ll explain
(after they have pulled tongues apart, if they can)
that this is an old and sacred village custom
this putting of tongues in one another’s mouth
and could they please excuse us
as we put our tongues in each other’s mouth as often as we like
for this way we do our part
to preserve a very ancient village culture
and tradition that is firmly within
and only meant for those of the remote village I was born in;
and could they just stand and watch -
no wagging tongues, please -
and thank you very much!

I don’t know about you, but when I think of self-control, I generally think of one or two areas in which I really struggle. I focus all my attention on those areas, but find, in the end, I am not more under control.

So, what gives? Yesterday my husband and I were discussing this, and he shared a very wise insight. Basically, he said, you can’t just be self-controlled in one area of your life. Self-control is a fruit of the Spirit and thus it becomes part of who are. So, we need to practice self-control in every area of life.

What a genius! I mean, if I would practice self-control in various areas of my life, then that becomes more and more a part of who I am and how I react (or rather choose to react) to some of the bigger areas of temptation for me.

So, what are some of the things I need to control. (This is not an exhaustive list; I just wanted to get your brain juices flowing.):

1. My time with God: I need to always make this a priority. I should never be too tired or busy or self-sufficient to even attempt to live without staying in contact with the true source of my ability to do anything at all.
2. My tongue: I need to think before I speak. Is this edifying? Is it good and appropriate? Am I complaining, arguing, or gossipping?
3. My diet: I need to pay attention to what I eat. I don’t necessarily mean counting every calorie or never having another sweet, but am I really hungry or am I just bored/sad/angry?
4. My physical activity: I need to avoid laziness. My husband loves going on adventures and some of those mean I have to keep up with a man who bikes to and from school/work everyday! Plus, he thinks I’m attractive the way I am, so I want to stay that way So, am I taking a break from exercising today because my body needs a rest day or because I just don’t “feel” like it?
5. My food for thought: I need to examine what I feed into my mind. Is it God-honoring? Is it cultivating pure, righteous, and holy thoughts? Is it counter-acting the work God is trying to do in my life?
6. My chores: I need to take responsibility for the house. Am I really too busy to clean up today? Am I really too tired to cook?

So, six little areas where I have a choice. I can either let my flesh tell me that I deserve better, that I can skip that today, that feeling good is better than doing what I know is right, that more sleep will produce a better day than quiet time with God. Or I can tell my flesh, “Shut up! God gave me a job to do, and I am doing it.”

Personally, I look forward to growing in this area. Sometimes I get so sick and tired of just responding on a whim. I want to learn to say “No” to me and “Yes” to God. How about you?

Fragrant

Fragrant is the flower
you give
for my spirit to know.

Gentle is the caress
you have brought
to my heart.

Lovely the vision
as you walk
across the floor to me.

Melodic is the song
you have played
in my body tonight.

Sweet is the taste
you have left
on my tongue.

.. Todd’s head became so overbalanced that Cynthia needed to prop it up …

‘Hey .. I bet you’re jealous’

VIDEO (640×480; 129 mb; 5′40”; Xvid; ac3)

In the early days, when Niko was first born, he was having some issues with breastfeeding.  Seeing as he was in the NICU, we were seeing a lactation consultant to help us get going.  One day the lactation consultant felt around in his mouth, and afterward suggested that we get his tongue snipped. Snipped?! I had no idea what she was talking about! She went on to explain that she thought he had a tongue-tie or tethered tongue and that this was impeding his ability to breastfeed.  I had never heard of such a thing and inquired a bit more.  She told me it was a simple procedure done at the doctor’s office, where the tie that is under the tongue, that connects to the base of the mouth is simply snipped so that his tongue can latch easier when nursing.  This sounded a bit barbaric to me, but she told me it really doesn’t hurt the baby, and that there is no freezing needed: the doctor just goes in with the clippers and does the trick. Ouch! (That was all I could think at the time.)

She also told me that having a tongue-tie can hinder speech development in the future.  This got me thinking, so I talked to my doctor about it and she was leaning toward NOT getting the snip.  She said it used to be really common, but not so much anymore, and that a lot of times, newborns’ tongues will stretch as they grow and they will therefore grow out of not being able to latch.  My doctor further went on to feel his tongue-tie and did not think it was a concern.  After talking with Borys, we decided not to get the snip.

Over the past couple of weeks, Niko has been sticking out his tongue a lot.  Sometimes when we stick ours out at him, he will mirror this back, with a smile! And, he just sticks it out on his own as well, for no apparent reason.  I can’t help but wonder: is he just trying to prove, “See Mom and Dad, I didn’t need to get that nasty little snip! Look at me, I can stick my tongue out like the best of them!”.

The vocal folds, or vocal cords, are the part of our larynx that vibrate creating sound in our voice. When these are made to vibrate, they make sounds such as we wish, like ah, ee, or oo, The mouth assists in this process. But, the folds are critical in the quality of sound production. Not only this, but they gauge the air flow as it leaves the lungs. Therefore, when we play brass, the vocal cords determine the shape and flow of the air stream.

A simple exercise will show this. Open your mouth and say, “Ha.” Now, take one hand and form it in a circle, with your thumb over your index finger. Bring that hand up to your lips, placing your lips on your fingers, and then blow air through the opening in your hand. You should feel a slight difference at the throat. That is, the throat will feel less restricted. This is because the air passes through the larynx with less tension. The tension that forms with many sounds we make is unnecessary, and much of it develops at the larynx, changing the air flow and the quality of sound.

So, the first effort arises from complete relaxation and goes on to complete relaxation maintaining an unrestricted air flow.

Most mistakes occur when the air flow is restricted in some way, a bump, a spasm, a pinch. You can hear and feel this in your playing.

Notice the tongue is attached to the throat and larynx, so when you tongue the larynx is effected. This causes tension, too, which can disrupt the air flow. Therefore, practice complete relaxation when you move the tongue. The goal is a relaxed control over this movement, so you tongue in concert with the unrestricted air flow.

The soft palette sits in back of the hard palette on the roof of the mouth. Take your tongue and scroll it back on the hard bone until you find a soft place and that is the soft palette. This plays a role in the shape of the air as the air comes up from the lungs. Therefore the shape of the soft palette determines somewhat the shape of the air stream. If you keep the soft palette lifted up and open, like a yawn, you can influence the relaxation and easy flow of the air stream. You also make room for the movement of the larynx and tongue.

the confessions of John Tongue (2 in 3 of the series: Tongue Poems)  text©2009, Raj Arumugam, pictures: wikipedia

1
I, John Tongue,
I have a confession to make:
I have an obsession -
an obsession with tongues;
not ox tongues like when you gather to dine
but tongues, actual human tongues in speech;
human mouths in their cave homes
like beasts in their lair

2
you see, when people speak
I sit before them
and am fascinated by their tongues;
I might listen to you, for instance,
and your words fly over my head
sometimes your spit in my face
but my eyes are fixed
on the tongue
that lies trapped in your mouth
and that darts in and out of your mouth
and that shows between your teeth
if you have some

3
I am obsessed I confess
and I sit like a Peeping Tom
waiting for a sight
of this most private muscle
that may suddenly burst out of the mouth
like a solar flare;
and I wait for a laugh
and the person throws the head back
and the jaws are open and the
sacred tongue is laid bare
for all the world to see
and that is a heavenly vision to me
a revelation, a miracle
equal to seeing an angel
or a Great Religious Leader
in a bullet-proof batmobile

4
and I love watching the news too
not so much to know what has transpired
but to observe the tongue of the newsreader
though some are very miserly with their show of their tongues;
but many have taken up this profession, it would seem,
to make a national or international show of their lingua;
and so you might well understand
I love TV too where all sorts of people
with all kinds of tongues
(that is, fat and thick and thin tongues
white, pale, gray, and red and pink and sickly tongues
red-carpet tongues and dusty dirty tongues)
make it their profession to tease me
with a display or concealment of their tongues;
and the cinema I love too
for similar reasons
and of course especially for the larger-than-life vision it offers
of the most glorious human tongue;
and though you might well imagine
I would hate the telephone
for I cannot see the tongue
you’d be quite wrong
for this is an opportunity for me to
exercise my very vivid imagination
for I can still visualize the tongue
in all its manifestations
and Oh, I love the telephone
for it puts the human tongue so Oh, Oh, close to my ear

5
ah, these then are some of the joys of the tongue
and this my obsession
but when we next meet
don’t please be so conscious
of your tongue as you speak
for I may not look
at your tongue
jumping up like a frog
from the floor of your mouth
and venturing into the world through your teeth
to determine what endangered species
resides within your mouth;
but I may have shifted my attention
to perhaps your diction
and enunciation
listening for crispness and clarity
and poking fun at any peculiarity,
so just relax, speak-publish, and be damned!

but then, I may still be stuck in obsession  on the flasher tongue!

sing you of the tongue (1 in 3 of the series: Tongue Poems)   text©2009, Raj Arumugam, pictures: wikipedia

sing you, commanded the voice,
sing you,
O one of million insipid poets
lost at websites;
sing you of the tongue

who’s that? I said
pretty sure
the effects of an overdose of paracetamol
could not linger for so long

O you inglorious cyberspace versifier
tied to praise and strokes
of fellow-weaklings at poetry sites
sing you, I command you,
of the tongue

excuse me, I replied,
living in a democracy
I don’t take directions like that!
besides I’m a vegetarian
and I couldn’t possibly sing
in good conscience
about delicacies like cow tongues
and pig tongues and taco de lengua
or duck tongues
or ox tails for that matter;
besides, I queried,
who the hell are you?

ah, said the voice
I am your muse
that your modern world has banished;
by me all tongues move in eloquence
and all tongues are born and prosper
and therefore I command you
sing you of the tongue

but why me?
I asked,
unable to resist a cliche

because you are a weakling,
came the firm and quick reply

all right, but sing like how? I said,
unwilling to dispute with this voice
and quite convinced a lunatic
ventriloquist was around
(though talking to myself
I wondered if I too was not insane)
like, how should I sing?
like:
O I sing of the tongue supple and delicate!
or
of the tongue I sing
and its exploits
in battlefields and in bedrooms:
how do you like those beginnings?

you imbecile!
declared the throaty voice
your generation of vipers
imitate the ancients
and yet you know nothing of the muse that
moves tongues;
do not presume to ask me how you should sing
for I know only how to command
and therefore I command you,
you weakling underdog:
Sing
you of the tongue!

and so I started
and composed there
three poems on the red human tongue
and I confess I cheated
for lack of inspiration
and so I included this as number one.

Voice is sound production. Speech is what ultimately comes out the mouth after the sound is modified by the tight coordination among the throat muscles, palate, tongue, lips, teeth, etc. An example of a voice problem is hoarseness. A speech problem would be stuttering, or nasal-sounding words, or mumbling.

Speech researcher Christine Ericsdotter precisely captured the intricate movements of the tongue, lips, pharynx and jaw during speech using a rapid-fire X-ray.

Check out the video she created here!

This link provides a cartoon animation of how each sound in the English language is produced from an anatomical standpoint.

All Time Low
Keep the Change You Filthy Animal
Nothing Personal
2009
Submitted by: paramore_fans@yahoo.com

Key: E

Tuning: Standard EADGBe

Chords used:
E -    022100
B -    x24442
C#m -  x46654
A -    x02220
F#m -  244222
E/G# - 476xxx

Intro: E--B-C#m-A--C#m-B-
E--B-C#m-A-E/G#-F#m-

Verse 1:
E         B
  Are you having trouble
C#m              A
finding sleep at night?
   E                 B
Or does your lack of conscience
         C#m          E/G# A
tell you everything's al---right
  E                 B
I trust your good intentions that
       C#m       E/G# A
you're watching over  friend
         F#m
You must think that I’m crazy if
E/G# A
I    don’t see through that plan

Chorus 1:
                     E
So tell me what your best
            B             A
friend knows that I don’t know
                E
Tell me why you talk me
    B             A
down wherever you go
         E
You’re a saint you're a queen
    B
And I’m just another
C#m         E/G# A
boy without a    crown
                F#m
Tell me why you sell me
                    A
out every where you go
             B
I just wanna know what
your best friend knows

(Repeat Intro)

Verse 2:
E       B
  So vindictive you’ll
    C#m          A
say anything you like
     E
The smile you fake
     B
the steps you take
             C#m
You know you never
          E/G# A
could get it   right
E                B
Talk is cheep so make believe
     C#m          E/G# A
your secrets find a    grave
        F#m
It's to late you gave up your
E/G# A
last chance to walk away

(Repeat Chorus)

Bridge:
E
  You stand a little to tall
say a little to much
Gonna bite that know
it all tongue
A
  You tried a little to hard
now I’m calling that bluff
Big plans are coming undone
E/G#
   That’s just typical
you're so cynical
A
Couldn’t have me
I didn’t want you
You're selling me out to the
girl I can’t afford to lose
E
  You stand a little to tall
say a little to much
Gonna bite that know
it all tongue
A
  You tried a little to hard
now I’m calling that bluff
Big plans are coming undone
E/G#
   That’s just typical
you're so cynical
A
Couldn’t have me
I didn’t want you
You set yourself up to lose

(Repeat Chorus)

Outro:
E                       B    C#m
  What your best friend knows
    A                     C#m B
I'm ever gonna let this go
                      E    B A-E/G#-F#m(hold)
What your best friend knows

It happened again.  I said something I shouldn’t have said.  I tried to “hold it in” and then it just…happened.  I mean – honestly.  People can be SO stupid and I would be less than true to myself if I didn’t say what I meant!  And they deserved it.

Or

I know I shouldn’t have written that email or message to someone – but they’ll understand my tone because I do.  They shouldn’t think anything about it – I’m just being me – and to be me  - means being completely honest and everyone will just have to understand – I’ve got to be ME!!

Do either of these sound like you?  Yeah – me too.  The Bible tells us that out of the heart – the mouth (or tongue) speaks.  That pesky little tongue – it’s so little – how can it do so much damage?  If you are like me you have about a thousand or more words you wish you could take back – either years ago – last year 0r last night.

This morning we heard another great message from Pastor Greg at MRCC about “The Fear of God” – this time about the tongue.  In James 3 we read:

…So too the tongue is a small part of the body, yet it has great pretensions.  think how small a flame sets a huge forest ablaze. and the tongue is a fire! The tongue represents the world of wrongdoing among the parts of our bodies.  It pollutes the entire body and sets fire to the course of human existence – and is set on fire by hell. For every kind of animal, bird, reptile and sea creature is subdued and has been subdued by humankind  - But no human being can subdue the tongue; it is a restless evil, full of deadly poison.  With it we bless the Lord and Father, and with it we curse people made in God’s image.  From the same mouth come blessing and cursing.

How much damage can be made by the tongue.  It is HUGE.  I am humbled and ashamed at how I have spoken over the years – when I was younger and much more feisty and hadn’t had life “season” me yet.  And I am keenly aware of the damage others have done to me too – even pretty recently.  In Mark 33 we read:

Make a tree good and its fruit will be good, or make a tree bad and its fruit will be bad, for a tree is known by its fruit.  Offspring of vipers!  How are you able to say anything good, since you are evil? For the mouth speaks from what fills the heart.  The good person brings good things out of his good treasury and the evil person brings evil things out of his evil treasury.  I tell you that on the day of judgment, people will give an account for every worthless word they speak.  For by your words you will be justified, and by your words you will be condemned.

This passage should greatly alarm us.  Should humble us and bring us to our knees asking forgiveness for all the worthless words we have spoken.  We have all done it.  After all – doesn’t the world revolve around me?  Shouldn’t I be allowed to be happy?  Say what I want?  Let the chips fall where they may?  I don’t think so.  This passage says that at the judgement everything will be brought out in the open – what was done in secret – everyone will know.  Frightening stuff.

We need to:

Be careful what we say

Speak less and listen more

Learn to use our tongue like God uses His

We need to bless people – and speak life and hope

If you are one like me – who tends to have a big mouth sometimes – you need to know that you CAN tame the tongue – but it starts with asking forgiveness for the things that you’ve already said – and forgiving those things that have been said against you.  Ask the Lord to help you to really love people just as they are – no strings – no hidden agenda.  Ask Him to enable you to see others as He sees them – ask Him to help you to bless them and offer them words of life and hope.  A gentle word and encouragement from you can go a long way.

I am praying for you

God Bless

I flew on a plane a little over a month after September 11.

I’ve ridden several roller coasters boasting themselves to be the tallest/fastest/only in the country/world/general vicinity.

I took a girl that I and many others claimed to be the hottest in the world out to dinner twice.

I’ve been two blocks from Harlem at 1:30 in the morning.

I’ve been to New Jersey.

Despite all of these things, nothing petrified me more than when the oral surgeon who hovered over my mouth for the better part of an hour said “Okay, open up.”

Back in early 2006, a toothache kept me awake all night, despite multiple doses of Tylenol taken by me in a desperate and possibly illegal attempt to remedy the discomfort. The episode prompted me to visit my dentist for the first time in nearly three years. Sure, the part-time jobs that filled my post-collegiate, post-being-kicked-off-my-dad’s-insurance-while-I-was-a-student life and their lack of a dental plan had gotten me used to a DDS-free existence, but my toothache, which is the only ailment that can hurt so much that it actually pisses you off, prompted me to take advantage of my current (full-time) job’s dental coverage and schedule an appointment.

Despite the usual poking and prodding of every sensitive area of my mouth with instruments that shouldn’t even be within a 50 mile radius of your damned HEAD, the appointment went well…until my dentist started dropping terms like “abscess” and “root canal” in regards to MY teeth. He suggested I get three of my four wisdom teeth removed. I later figured out why your four molars are dubbed “wisdom teeth”: it is wise to leave them in, no matter how severely they might decay.

He recommended me to a few oral surgeons in the area to have the procedure done. I’m sure he had the means to do this type of operation in his own office, but my guess is that, were he to do it, he knew that I would never trust him again to place anything in my mouth that wasn’t a steak.

So I ultimately visited one of the three recommended experts; I know now that my decision was the wrong one, for one of the plaques hanging in the waiting room had the typical engraved recognition of the guy’s work…and a fucking GAVEL attached alongside it. Of all the possible objects one thinks of attaching to a plaque that will hang in the waiting area of a DENTAL expert, the LAST thing should be a small HAMMER. It’d be like walking into a proctologist’s office and seeing a bronzed erect dick on the wall.

Anyway, I got X-rayed and was forced to sit in a room alone with the results:

Personally, I thought all of my teeth looked perfectly fine. Sure, I was basing this judgment on whether or not my teeth were all there, but I guess that wasn’t good enough for the dental community.

Soon, the dentist arrived: a tiny, wrinkled elder who might have performed surgery on Moses’ mouth. He looked more like the type of guy you see cruising down the Interstate in the left lane with his blinker on, going a whopping 16 MPH, his entire body frame pressed up against the steering column. And I was supposed to trust this man with sharp objects near my gums?

I had opted for the “local” anesthesia (meaning that I would be awake and Novacaine would be applied to my gums), which, in retrospect, was one of the dumbest decisions I ever made since insisting that we all eat at White Castle. This is not to say that I am an advocate for the “general” anesthesia (where you are put to sleep), either, for what you don’t know about this is the fact that you have to sign a form acknowledging that you understand that such a practice carries with it, among other things, the slight risk of CARDIAC ARREST and DEATH.

DEATH for a TOOTH? I’ll opt for Tom Hanks’ ice skate procedure that he did in “Castaway.”

A few nurses came in, bringing the grand total of people who would be extracting objects that had been in my mouth since infancy to THREE. Fucking THREE. My family’s mechanic can fix an entire damn CAR by HIMSELF. After they—why not?—took my blood pressure, it was time for the Novacaine.

Which was in a syringe.

Which had a needle attached to it.

Which was being poked into three of my GUMS.

I’ve been a fan of the MTV show “Jackass” since it premiered and loved its subsequent movies. One thing I failed to notice about the show until that day was the fact that not a single one of the “Jackass” cast members underwent oral surgery. They would ram shopping carts into each other, attach bottle rockets to their schlongs, shove toy cars up their butts, and intentionally give each other paper cuts…but they apparently (and wisely) drew the line at oral surgery.

“This might hurt a little” the doctor said as he advanced the needle towards my mouth. Several excruciatingly painful moments later, I realized he is also probably the type of person to remark that the Pacific Ocean is “just a little damp.” As we all waited for the drug to numb my face, I decided that coming here in the first place pretty much carried with it Class A Retard Status, so I decided to keep going with the stupidity. Before everyone present could start to small talk with me about sports or some such shit, I informed them all of my then-upcoming trip to Honolulu.

Dropping a bombshell like this in the middle of February in Pennsylvania is guaranteed to make just about anyone jealous. But doing so in an oral surgeon’s office probably intensified the jealousy to the point where they undoubtedly felt that the pain they would soon inflict on me would be well justified. Maybe I hoped that releasing this information would somehow cause them to say, “Oh, well, you don’t need to have these teeth removed, for the air in Hawai’i will automatically cure them.” No such luck, though.

My 3:15 appointment ended a little before 4:00, which might mean it took 45 minutes (possibly less) in actual time, but in Guy-Who’s-Stuck-in-the-Chair-Having-the-Procedure-Done Time, it felt more like several years. Before digging in my mouth for enamel treasure, the doctor put his hand on my shoulder and pressed lightly on it.

“See what I’m doing here? I’m just applying a little pressure. That’s all you’re going to feel: just a little bit of pressure.”

Yeah.

In all honesty, aside from some definite, noticeable “pressure,” the first tooth came out relatively easy. But the SECOND and THIRD teeth, who were now aware of what was going on once their upper left side neighbor was forcibly evicted, decided that there would be no better time to firmly embed themselves in my jaw as hard as they could. In other words, their removal was the largest pain I or anyone else has ever felt. I would have rather had a screwdriver stuck into my eyeball. I would have rather had a piece of the lead from mechanical pencils shoved up my penis hole. I would have rather listened to the collective works of Kenny G and Yanni SIMULTANEOUSLY.

It honestly felt like he was pushing the tooth further BACK in my mouth instead of pulling it out. I have no idea what tools he was using, for I kept my eyes closed the whole time. All I can tell you was that a fucking DRILL was started at one point to aid in the removal. I had my mouth twisted open every possible and impossible way, and the fact that the “spit sucker” had made my mouth drier than the Sahara Desert in June wasn’t exactly helping matters much. Twisting, pulling, pushing, and virtually every other action (except that “slight pressure”) that should never be undertaken in a mouth were performed on me by the three experts, which I swear had multiplied to about 50 by that point. I guarantee that, when you go to Hell, you do not eternally burn in bubbling cauldrons; you get wisdom teeth pulled. When you’re having that done to you, soaking in giant black pots over the hottest flames in creation is a much more pleasant alternative. It was somewhere in this conscious nightmare that I formed the first rational thought of the day: the lone wisdom tooth that remains in my mouth…the one whose removal the doctor said was “optional”…is staying right where it is, along with all of my other teeth. Cavemen never had to have their teeth eventually replaced with “dentures”, and they are still alive today (at least according to certain Geico commercials).

Still not entirely positive that it was still February or even the year 2006, I was eventually free to go. My molars had been officially replaced by a seemingly infinite taste of blood and two pieces of gauze on either side of my mouth. In fact, to rub it in, they gave me ADDITIONAL gauze in case I were to need it:

In fact, this was given to me before the operation commenced, but the ensuing pain caused me to twist and rip the poor innocent package to shreds. The package pictured above, which I have thankfully yet to open, was the second one bestowed upon me.

Now in possession of dry lips with no feeling to them, I also noticed that the gauze and leftover Novacaine had left me sounding like a Special Olympics athlete, which served me right, seeing as how the entire decision to get this done in the first place was retarded.

I also got a prescription for some sort of pain medication:

…which my sister, who works at a doctor’s office, later informed me was exceptionally “weak.” She suggested I take ibuprofen with each dose and, having already achieved my life’s highest stupidity levels that day, decided to listen to her, despite her being the same person who once thought that we wouldn’t be able to start our car because the power went out.

In addition to the $635 bill, I was presented with a list of rules to follow in the days after the surgery. Basically, I was not allowed to eat anything firmer than pudding and that everything that entered my mouth can be no other temperature aside from “lukewarm.” Interestingly, it tells me not to touch the affected areas with my tongue or fingers…but then states to brush my teeth no later than the next day! In other words, my tongue, which really doesn’t have an option to leave my mouth or rub up against its enamel neighbors, is not to even look at either side of my mouth, but a damn toothbrush is more than welcome. Yeah, I’m supposed to insert ANOTHER thin object into my mouth.

The rules also tell me to rinse my mouth out with SALT WATER the next day. Yeah, salt on three separate wounds. That will be fun.

Anyway, I came home, situated my ass in bed, and was generously waited on hand and foot by my family. Many cups of vanilla pudding were ingested, as were numerous pain pills and water.

And why?

Because of these culprits right here. Here are two of the three little bastards that made Presidents’ Day 2006 one of the worst days of my life thus far (the other one came out in “pieces” and thus couldn’t be salvaged):

TALKING BACK First your kid, then your bunny

ur otter iz next.

Picture by: dunno source Caption by: omgbananas via Poster Builder

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Foxy Brown: Pam Grier is out to avenge her junkie-loser brother and snitch boyfriend by sticking it to the man, big time. Everything from the soul / funk soundtrack to the gritty view of ‘real life’ is aimed at adolescent black guys, so for a honky to review this in one paragraph, probably won’t do it much justice. Naturally everyone evil, or with any power, is a white bigot: although the casting department went a step too far by hiring the most upper class ‘gangsters’ I’ve ever seen. The opening credits are like a cheap James Bond rip off and the action in the film’s admirable, but not quite there. Despite all the fist-clenching bro solidarity, melodramatic scenes and social issues / stereotypes raised it’s an OK action-flick, made easier to watch courtesy of Grier’s one-of-a-kind figure being flaunted throughout. Girl Power / Black Power!

Score: 5/10