I’m crabby today. I would totally understand if you decided not to read any further. Go on…leave while you can.

Still here? Okay, you asked for it.

I’ve got toothache, resulting from a two-year battle with my wisdom teeth. Earlier today I treated myself to a large helping of banoffee pie (is that how you spell it?). I felt like rewarding myself for finally getting my hair cut. My mother complained I looked like a ‘poet’, my hair was so long. Where this phrase originates from, I have no idea. I’ve seen pictures of Byron, Keats, Wordsworth and Lindsay Black. All of these magnificent poets have short hair. Mine was more unkempt rather than long. Anyway, I got it cut. I went to Lee, my local Chinese barber, whose shop is called Wonderful Barber. Nothing like a little self-confidence to boost business, is there? Anyway, he’s the bees knees when it comes to the cutting of the hair. I was in and out in less than ten minutes.

I was saying to Lee that I got a summons from The Criminal Courts of Justice, obliging me to turn up for jury service on 12 April. He asked what that meant. I explained that I was to make myself available for jury selection. He asked if I was in trouble with the law. I said no, but I could tell he didn’t really understand the system of facing a jury of your peers and having them decide your fate. I resisted the urge to remind him that in his home country of China there is no such system. China simply executes their criminals or bangs them up for zillions of years, all without a trial. I wanted to – but I like my ears where they are. Anyway, Lee is not at fault for what his government gets up to.

Where was I?

Yes, I got toothache from eating a dessert treat. Bummer! I will have to get my wisdom teeth seen to, sooner or later. I’ve numbed the pain with Solpadeine and Nurofen Plus, graciously donated to me by the beautiful Mary. Her medicine cabinet knows no equal. (Mine just has Alkaseltzer.) I’m waiting for a lottery win or my next Credit Union loan to finally get my mouth seen to. Years of alcohol and drug abuse have left my teeth and gums in dire need of an overhaul, and I can’t afford to meet my adoring public in the very near future (book signings, TV appearances) looking like Shane MacGowan from The Pogues.

Until then, though, I’ll make do with painkillers.

6 responses to “Grumble

  1. Great choice of songs to illustrate “your pain on drugs.” : )

    Sounds like a tough day all around ~ jury summons, toothache, and holding your tongue while talking to someone holding a razor.

    Feel better soon!

    BTW: MJ may not like this post ~ she’s apparently not a fan of Pink Floyd. : )

  2. The jury summons I can take; I’m looking forward to it, truth be told.

    I was tinkering with the blog and posted it before I gave it a title 😦

    The Floyd rule!! Accept no substitutes.

  3. Ooh, I hate a toothache. I think due to a tooth’s location (ie in your head) it has a greater effect on your ability to focus or think of anything but that. Maddening. Poor James. Feel better. And YAY for the numbness!

    Nice blog by the way. Adding to my favourites….now.

  4. “My mother complained I looked like a ‘poet’”. Here, I just thought you were entering the Oscar Wilde look-a-like contest. It is coming up during the May Bank Holiday weekend. It is not too late to grow your hair back.

    Next time give me the cake. Deb does not need it. I do. Need fattening (see comment on your earlier rant).

  5. Love the blog. Surviving life’s little challenges requires a good sense of humor, which you have!

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