Friday, June 12, 2015

The Fatted Cow

Pretty much biting season. If he, she or it can bite or sting something, it will. And dutifully your correspondent went to the dentist at the prearranged time, sat in the waiting room, admired the wall paper, an hour and half later he emerged having had his lower front teeth ground down a little so that he too might be better able to bite things.

Have to think, can't help it, that those engaged in the medical and dental professions have a sort of mandate to find something wrong with you. If we were all perfectly healthy there'd be no work for them. And there's a whole thing happening with waiting rooms, and receptionists and appointments and very smart cars in the staff parking area. We are the fatted cow, I guess.

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