Ouch has been the theme for the last seven or so days. I have some wrecked teeth and they have not let me forget their current condition or how much pain they can produce when provoked. I'm diabetic so my teeth are obviously doomed but I had no idea that so many would decide to cry out for exodus at the same time. Front and bottom row, from canine to canine are killing me and when they're not killing me they're making me anxious with fear for the oncoming hours of ceaseless throbbing and pounding that has become the torturous soundtrack for my shitty arthouse movie life. Eight days from today I will plop my ass into a dentist's chair for the first time in nearly twenty years and provided that the train wreck I affectionately refer to as my mouth doesn't cause any hygienists to fall into fainting spells I will start down the long and painful path to recovery or at least the drastic lessening of pain. Right now that day might as well be a year from now. If I had more choice in the matter I would simply have them all removed along with the exploding bulb string of Xmas lights that serves as a feed back to my main nervous system. I don't feel any need to keep any of them and could easily have them replaced with wood blocks or thumbscrews or something which could easily be replaced when worn down into cinders. My guess is that at least eight of them will have to go before the year counter flips over. Godspeed and good riddance you evil little bastards who sap my will to live and/or eat anything crunchy or that breaks into small pieces when consumed ever again.