AYMAC-IDLE BABBLE

Hello all. Here is another idle rambling just because... (Yeah, 'cause what else you gonna do when life is kicking you in the teeth, literally and metaphorically?)

Right now, I’m sitting here in a car with a toothache that I’m almost 100% sure is an abscess. (Well, I say ‘almost’ because who needs a dentist when WebMD’s free and my imagination is way more fun?)

There’s pus coming out of this abscess, out of two small holes in the back of the left side of my mouth... (Two small holes? Hell, I might as well be a damn fountain spitting out infection juice! Could sell that shit at Starbucks.)

...and I know I’m swallowing this nasty shit every night. (Great! Now my throat’s getting an all-you-can-eat buffet of filth—bon appétit, throat! Taste the infection, baby!)

I’m paranoid because now I’m in a time where I have to really worry about my health. (Yeah, that’s middle age for you. You hit 50 and suddenly a cough feels like a death sentence.)

Because of the carnivore lifestyle, I’m in the best shape of my life, but my teeth are different. (I got abs that can slice bread, but teeth that crumble like bread. Ain’t that some irony for ya?)

I haven’t taken care of my teeth like I should have in my life. (Oh, no kidding, Sherlock! That’s like saying you should’ve watered your plants after they turned into tumbleweeds.)

I have my reasons, but what it comes down to is pure laziness. (Ain’t no shame in it, though—my dentist’s BMW payments are riding on my laziness.)

Without digressing, I have to make the point that I need to get my teeth taken care of... (Oh, NOW you wanna make a point? Your teeth been making points like a drunk philosophy major for years, man!)

...and I’m ready to go to that one place that just puts a whole new set in. (Yeah, like teeth are a damn Lego set—just pop the old ones off and snap some new ones in.)

I think it’s called Nuvia. (Sounds like a spa for your mouth... ‘Come relax while we rip your jaw apart.’ Ah, peaceful.)

But I’m really at that point where I know I’m on my way to suffering. (Oh, we’re on the ‘suffering express,’ first stop: Pain Town. Population: My dumbass.)

And I just cannot go back to consuming poison that isn’t American food because it just makes things worse. (Yeah, I’m keeping it local. If I’m gonna die early, at least let it be from homegrown, USDA-approved garbage!)

Now, I don’t know if I’m experiencing a carnivore flu because I’m definitely in ketosis... (Ketosis? Sounds like a Greek god nobody prays to ‘cause he’s always hangry.)

...or if the headaches are coming from this abscess, but I definitely have an abscess no matter what. (Yeah, you ever get so sick, you can’t even tell what’s wrong anymore? It’s like playing a game of ‘Which Organ’s F*cking Up Today?’)

And today I definitely had a headache. (Of course, it’s either that or my brain’s screaming, ‘What the hell did you do to me?’)

And now I’m in my middle 50s, and I can’t even believe it. (Man, I blinked and went from “I’ll try anything once” to “Please, let me sit down.”)

I still feel like I’m in my 20s. (Except now my back’s 80, my knees are 70, and my dentist is sending me ‘Get Well Soon’ cards.)

I don’t know, I think it’s the autism that distorts my sense of time, but time sure has flown by fast. (Either that or someone hit fast-forward on the whole damn decade—where the hell did my 30s go?)

Now my life is currency. (Oh, great! I’m the dollar bill of existence, and inflation’s eating me alive.)

I can’t even believe I’m using words like this. My life is currency. (Shit, I ain’t even Bitcoin. I’m the human equivalent of a penny in the couch cushion.)

I’m just making an input on Wednesday, September 25th, 2024, at 3:45 PM. (Yeah, gotta timestamp the misery—make sure future generations know exactly when I lost my mind.)

I’m just gonna leave as much stuff as possible... (Because nothing says ‘legacy’ like rambling about pus and dental regret.)

...and I’m even thinking about paying 20, 30, 40, 50 years ahead of time so this site is up for my grandchildren. (Yeah, ‘cause my grandkids are really gonna wanna read about how Grandpa’s mouth turned into a sewer.)

But anyway, this is that, and that is this. (Translation: ‘I have no clue what the hell I’m talking about anymore, but thanks for sticking around.’)

Have a good day and a better evening. (And if your day sucks, just think about my abscess. You’re welcome!)