Well tomorrow could play out one of two ways. One way will see me give a very acerbic, volatile rant on this blog about a particular subject. The other way will see me give a very acerbic, volatile rant with many of the swear words on this blog. Things have not been great at Bunbury H.Q this week. None of it to do with the magazine, don’t worry! As you may have seen from my last few posts, I have not been in a great way this week. I have a root canal that needs fixing in my mouth spaces. I have been in the most unbelievable, blinding pain. We actually took a trip to A&E on Tuesday night because I was on the verge of seriously damaging myself. We waited for half an hour, got in to the triage nurse who basically told me there was nothing they could do because it was dental pain.
What is it about nerves in the teeth and gums that are so alien to the human body that doctors will not recognise them? Is that not a little bit nerve-racist? The nurse told me that all the doctor could do was give me co-codamol and ibuprofen, both of which I had already more than overdosed on and hadn’t touched the pain. She also told me it would be a 3 hour wait for this. I wept. Wept like I was having my children taken away from me at a train station.
We got back home and I sat staring at the dark until I had to go to work. I spent all day at work going out of my head and it only continued when I got home. Another sleepless night followed. I did not even have the mental capacity to have a wank to distract myself. I got into the dentist yesterday morning and it was such bliss. 8 injections in the mouth and I felt like I was walking on cotton wool. True, I felt like I had had a stroke and spent all day at work dribbling on customers as I recommended products to them but it was so nice not to feel anything.
Touch wood I am still pain free but I need to get these things sorted very soon. As I have said in a previous post, I had toothache pretty much every day for three years at uni. It’s not surprising I was a complete dick-head. Yesterday’s poem was about my trip to the dentist. That’s how much I felt towards to experience. Unlike most people, I do love the dentist. They are able to deal with the worst pain we can experience.
And I know that there will be some that say toothache is nothing compared to child-birth. Well, a customer in work today told me that toothache is worse. And it was a woman one. A woman one with kids so she should know.
Here is a poem. Tonight’s is a continuation of ‘Part One’ written on 09/01/15.
‘So good people,
imagine this. Imagine
walking on to the frozen food aisle
of your local supermarket.
There’s no garish brand-colours
demanding and vying for your attention.
No leering Aunt Bessie or
Findus begging you to choose them.
White boxes line the cabinets.
You find what you are looking for
for your dinner. Frozen Pies.
That is exactly what will be written
on the white box in
No chicken and mushroom.
No confusion between Meat &
Potato and Potato &
Meat. You choose the box,
if that is what you want,
and you get what you want.
If you want fish, turn to see
on a white box in black letters.
You are obliged to buy enough vegetables
with your meal to constitute a healthy diet.
Potatoes, broccoli, carrots, all in white bags
Potatoes, Broccoli, carrots written in black.
All organic but one line of everything.
No choice between no-frills,
G.M organic. All one high standard.
You walk to the aisles with tinned foods.
White tins, no labels. You choose a tin
and have what you get. You could be having beans
with your mystery meat pie. It could be
Once you have everything for your meal,
you go to the check-out. Four items. Twenty pounds.
Everything has a flat rate of
five pounds per item. Pies, beans, potatoes,
televisions, the latest DVDs and computer games.
The will be no import tax on any goods as everything will be sourced
in our own back yard. Income tax will be 40%.
There will be more on these details to follow.
Once you have paid, you head out of the supermarket
to your transport.
Before I get to that, however, a related side-note.
In the functioning society I intend to build for you,
dear citizens, there will be no place whatsoever
for drawing pins.’
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