I have not been posting for a while as I'm sure you have all noticed (no wheres TG thread though) this has been due to toothache.
Last Monday on noticing the increased pain in the gum regions and not being shy of the dentists I went to see him.
He is a nice chap and we conversed thusly:
Dentist: Whats your problem?
TG: Gobache
Dentist: Right, lets xray your finely shaped skull.
I am duly irradiated.
Dentist: Bugger all wrong with you.
TG: But it hurts!!!
Dentist: Don't be such a fairy, take 3 of these a day for five days, do not watch any goat porn and whatever happens NO BOOZE!
I am devastated, Mrs TG is due to back to Liverpool that weekend for her annual carjacking refresher course and the possibilities of debauchery have now become limited.
In short I spend a miserable weekend waiting for the antibiotics to kick in. They do not. Pain levels increase, then they increase again, this morning its agony. I return to the dentist :
TG: You bastard! The pills ain't working. Sort me out or I'll poison your donkey with Horlicks!
Dentist: Shut up and lie down while I jab you with this instrument of torture. We shall then yank the offensive molar out.
TG: You bastard!
I am jabbed. Within a few minutes I am pain free. Then the fun really starts!
We are all alone the nice dentist and me.
He proceeds to mount me and insert a MASSIVE pair of pliers into my mouth:
Dentist: If you need to stop raise a hand. OK?
TG: yumph
Dentist: Soon be over.
TG: yufk! Bathtid!
He proceeds go to at it with a will. By Christ he really put his back into it! But after a few minutes he dismounts and stands there gasping.
Dentist: I need to join a gym!
TG: eff! Canute!
Dentist: Right! Lets have another bash!
TG is remounted, in go the medieval pliers, much grunting and the voicing of oaths.
No joy. He falls off again gasping. The offending molar is still in place.
Dentist: You keep moving your head.
TG: Hang on! YOU keep moving MY head you bastard!
Dentist: (shout over shoulder) Tracey! Come and hold Mr TG's head!
From a back room emergies Tracey, hard faced and ready for action. She is well trained and without hesitation yours truly is in a vicious headlock and being remounted by Dr Death.
After a great deal more effort Dr Death gives a final wrench and flies backwards over the dentist chair triumphantly waving the pliers which grip the bloodied tooth.
Dentist: Got it!
TG: You bastard!
So that was that.
I have to say that was without doubt the most physical non sexual contact I have had with more than one person. Rugby has got nothing on it. I mean one second we are chatting about the weather, next a heaving, grunting trio then back to the weather again.
I ring Mrs TG in Liverpool to give her the good news:
TG: It's out.
Mrs TG: Did it hurt?
TG: No
Mrs TG: Shame, did they give you cocaine?
TG: Cocaine?
Mrs TG: Yeah, that stuff that freezes your gob so you chew your own lips off and dont notice till next day?
TG: Erm. Yes dear.
Mrs TG: Right, you.. Oh bugger, hang on while I get this last brick under this Jag (muffled screech of metal and much profanity)..Right that christmas paid for. Why you ringing me?
Another day over.
Funny old life ain't it?
