A Bear has one of her vampire teeth coming through. A sharp razor's edge can be felt when stray fingers are grabbed and stuck in the finger sharpener. She's waking a few times a night, with stuff to say about it and all.
As for her dad, I'm down a tooth but walking around with the constant seeping taste of blood in my mouth. The stitches are holding, so far, and Dr Lisa seems to have done a pretty tight job, but it's far from comfortable. I'm slightly high on codeine, and at work I'm finding I have to beware of that old medication-tourettes issue, as I just can't be bothered niceing things up for people at the moment. Roll on Friday, roll on...
A pub poem - My chip has fallen to the floor. The bar is crowded. I look down. *Sehnsucht*. A lawless longing for The unattainable. I frown.
18 hours ago