(Unfortunately) Sober Ramblings II

Agony, agony, agony, agony, agony........

I can't believe I have put up with this toothache for almost an entire week. Nothing is working; antibiotics, painkillers,

NOTHING...........................................Arghhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

If the dentist doesn't do something tomorrow I will pull my own tooth out! With pliers. Or string. Or maybe pliers and string together. Or maybe I'll just take a mallet to my head....

Hmmm..no wait a minute that means I'd probably be dead. Maybe that's taking it a little too far.....

I must remember to sob uncontrollably for sympathy at the dentists, perhaps even wring my handkerchief out and collapse to my knees whilst beating my head against the wall. Maybe that way Mrs T would get a better response?

Yep, unfortunately, I was brought up in the good old fashioned English way (which is increasingly rare) which is to have a stiff upper lip and grin and bear it. Yes, we Brits have a habit of underplaying things....we say things like....

"Never mind both your legs got blown off darling - you can still wave for your bus!"

"Oh super, now I've got alopecia, I won't have to pay for a haircut! What a bonus!"

"Never mind the cataracts dear, it's all good practice for your role as King Lear at the Am Dram Society....."

However, I also have another problem. I tend to make jokes. Yes, even when I feel like death warmed up I can usually find something to laugh about. It's a problem for me and I must remember not to do it in future because I'm sure doctors, dentists, teachers and god knows who else think I can't be in pain or don't need to be taken seriously....I must stop being silly!

Anyway, last night in a moment of nightmarish half sleep I had a dream......

I dreamt I was at the altar again with Mr T. He turned to me, proffering his hand, and said...

" With this...... remote control.... I thee wed."

Yes, the gold band had been replaced by a small black rectangular object that has been welded to his hand ever since.......

Why, why, why do men have such a fetish for being in control of the telly and why is it that they keep flicking over the channels? By God, I only have to blink and the screen's gone from Inspector Morse, to Strictly Dancing to CrimeWatch. In fact, there's as much chance of me following the plot of CSI as there is as George Bush making a comeback........ i.e none at all!

Yep, after years of study of the male and female species I've concluded the following....

Women need;

Love. (Lots of it.)

Affection. (Lots of it.)

Chocolate. (Even more of it.)

A clothing allowance. (A reasonable sum.)

Caresses. (For obvious reasons.)

Foreplay. (ALL the time.)

And....even more love. Naturally.


Oh and maybe some flowers from time to time.

And men need....

A television.

A remote control.

Alcohol.

More alcohol.

A woman. ( Preferably one who is blind, deaf and like to open the front door stark naked.)

Thus speaks Mrs T. A wise old(ish) woman. With toothache.