I drove past the dentists with a mouth full of Violet Crumble yesterday. This is the equivalent to driving by the tax office waving a hand of beautiful laundered money while in a tax avoiding taxi. You can feel the wind in your hair and have a fleeting feeling of knowing that your time has not yet come. These are our salad days (i think that's a reference to tossing when ever you feel like it).
I had an x-ray and an ultrasound today. My shoulder is fucked and has been fucked for the last 5 weeks. They probably won't find anything. I'm probably faking.
Once I had an ultrasound on my testicles. It was an awkward situation. The ultrasound operator was a girl who would have only been two years older than me. I had to lie on my back and pull my sack out through a gap in the sheets. Balls don't look great to start off with, like two baby brains (massive) in a deflated hairy skin balloon . They look even worse in isolation. When they're a pate' pink against the green of surgical sheets they appear more tumor than vital.
And then the ultrasound operator squirts goo all over them and tries to survey them with a hand held reader while they dodge and slide like slippery poached eggs. It's a bad situation.