Tongue Like A Sock Puppet, A.

I'd just like to say that if anyone discovers that they have wisdom teeth, and the dentist plans to remove them even though they're not causing you any pain, these people should punch their dentist in the cock.*

I failed to take this extraordinarily simple precaution last week, and now i'm at home spitting blood everywhere and living on Cup-a-soup. Ever since my day surgery in the Wakefield Hospital on Thursday, i've been a quivering mass of dextropropoxyphene, paracetemol and easily-swallowable MSG.

This enforced convalescence has it's upsides, of course. I'm not at work, and I'm reading voraciously. I've already finished off the tail-end of Perdido St Station (an excellent work which I avoided for far too long). I've also made short work of "A Practical Guide To Racism" and "Conan The Bootylicious"**, and i'm about halfway through Clive Cussler's "Atlantis Found".

I just wish I could eat chocolate, that's all.

In other news, the first draft of my new vampire novel has been finished. It's on hiatus while I'm up on blocks, then the redraft will begin in earnest.

*or fanny, as the case may be.
** or similar. They all sound the same anyway, and Conan belts heaps of people.