Of course the Old Lady and I are going out to dinner in Ann Arbor tonight (sans spawnage) -- the day after I got my new gold crown forcefully rammed into my throbbing jaw. The dentist even numbed me up, but I swear to shit, it felt like he was taking the exposed raw nerves of my molar and weaving them into one of those lanyard keychains I used to make (through my tears) at Camp Mishawaka. And, since the crown is gold, it's apparently really sensitive to heat and cold for awhile, which, so far, has been fucking GREAT!
Hopefully, the special tonight (at Logan - An American Restaurant) will be Room-Temperature Pudding over an Advil Pilaf, floating in tepid clove-oil gravy with a dollop of Novocaine-chutney. And a bottle of their finest Pinot from Napa Valium.
I'm bringing along a blender just in case.