Teethers

by Scott Smith

I believe I’m one or two drinks away from taking a long nap. My usual Beam and Diet is pretty weak, but not today. Half and half. I’m popping ibuprofens every couple of hours; I have given up on the topical pain reliever.

Liver health, you ask? Who needs a liver?

I want comfort food. Knackwurst! My father and I enjoyed the good ol’ German meat on occasion. I like it on a French bread with lots of mayo — hard to believe I’m a type 2 diabetic. I can’t find that delicious meat anywhere around here. Sure, I like my ribs, hamburgers and Popeye’s, but give me knackwurst and a box of Mac & Cheese for pure feel-good food.

Yes, I’m a wimp. I hate feeling pain. My fingers crack from the dry and cold weather and Robinson has to hear about it all week. Why she doesn’t grind me up and feed me to the chickens, I’ll never know.

But… but… it’s tooth pain. There’s like a direct something or other right to my brain. I can’t think; I can’t read; I can’t watch Heroes on iTunes. By the way, why is iTunes so fat and slow now? I thought Windows had cruft, go watch a vid on iTunes and you’ll truly experience calving icebergs.

Do I make sense?

Donettes may work for comfort food. You know, those waxy chocolate little doughnets that Robinson hates, so I can eat a box without feeling guilty that I didn’t share.

Oh, yeah! One more Beam & Diet and I can sleep for an hour or two. Donettes or no Donettes. Sleep. Sleep is good.

One last thing: Law & Order et. al producers — stop using sitcom actors for dramatic roles. They can’t act; that’s why they do sitcoms.

Geez. I really wish I didn’t bit down on that ice cube.

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