If you want to remove a hangover instantly then my advice is to have a tuth* removed.
I walked into the dentists with a headache that Nurofen refused to tackle, a sick stomach and a flat lined brain. I walked out shaking like a shitting dog, my headache replaced by post agony euphoria and saucer sized eyes. I went straight to the chemist and manically demanded the strongest pain killers they had. Despite my mouth being numb from my hairline to my nipple I knew once the 17 injections of anesthetic I had demanded with menace had worn off I would be in agony.
I was not to be dissapointed.
Over the last 30 years or so me and toothy had been aquainted he had grown his roots right down to my knees and these roots themselves had grown barbs. And there was I thinking tuthy was a friend of mine, perhaps the old adage of familiarity breeds contempt is true but I really thought we had a friendship. Of course we've had our ups and downs. Clearly tuthy thought I was taking things a step too far when chomping on that bag of scratchings outside The Triangle in Rhayader when he split in two. I tried to patch things up at the Dental hospital and things were good between us again for a good couple of years afterwards. But to dump me three days before Christmas was going to far ... I'm glad you're gone tuthy ... there, I've said it.
Anyways the dentist gave me a printed post extraction information sheet that said ... "Don't exercise and only eat ice cream" I could have kissed her there and then but the moustache put me right off.
As you might have guessed, my healthy living has taken a bit of a kicking in the last few days. However the Tall Bird had signed me up for a Race For Life in July. That means I shall have to give some serious thought to getting fit very, very soon indeed.
Oh and I may have lost a couple of pounds!
*For those non Brummie Blog readers firstly you should know firstly that it's a shame that you don't live in Birmingham and secondly, a tooth is called a tuth here.
No comments:
Post a Comment