Skip to main content

Dentally deranged

LEAVE mangy mongrels to rip each other’s throats as they sink fangs at any bone of contention, keep your peace chewing cud or crisp strips of bacon as ruminants do.

As feng shui lore has it, “the teeth relate to stating your needs, wants, desires and your individual creative expression.”

The area tied to mouth, gums, molars, gnawing and knowing, suet and sweets: west. It’s feng shui designated zone for creativity, children, and projects… the dental ties in nicely with the mental… uh, blabbermouths of less than lofty attainments of the mind accurse themselves, bring all sorts of sickness on themselves by hanging out in such parts where good ole Sol sets…

Sound thought and tooth can be a stranger to both friction and fiction… more so if you’ve got molar qualms or suffer from mendicant thoughts, sure, enunciate it loud and clear, mendicant thoughts are impoverished thoughts.

A steady beer buddy of ours won’t own up to suspicions that he’s often armed to the teeth, why, he’ll remind you of an Ernest Hemingway classic— “A Farewell to Arms.”

Not exactly a scatter-brained chap, he’s not likely to see an orthodontist… and ask to be fitted, so risk a bad case of malocclusion with mental braces.

Teeth are hard—they fall away… tongue is soft, so it lingers, often at the labia to tease out mind-blowing thrills. And if you’ve got a full set of dentures as any warty toad or frog—filthy rotten old goat—does, why, you need not lie through your teeth… you can lie through and through…

So peddle lies and there’ll be hell to pay… there shall be wailing and gnashing of teeth. To the smart aleck poser, “What if we don’t have teeth like the laws of the Philippines that can’t throw the book or throw in jail a scheming pencil pusher and bead counter like Carlos Garcia?”

Our beloved departed columnist Manuel F. Martinez quickly retorts: “Teeth will be provided.”

Hopefully, those rows of teeth would be on a chain saw, the sort of cutting implement wielded by the Ampatuan clan of Maguindanao in butchery… and they’ll tell the courts the whole tooth and nothing but the tooth, pwe-he-he-he!

Dearest… spare me your aching thought… and if you’re having second thoughts, second thoughts, second thoughts—that’s too lewd and loud and just like this old geezer, he ought to be obscene and not heard.

So keep in mind this nugget of feng shui lore: “the teeth relate to stating your needs, wants, desires and your individual creative expression.”

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Every single cell of my body's happy

I got this one from Carmelite Sisters from whose school three of my kids were graduated from. They have this snatch of a song that packs a fusion metal and liebeslaud beat and whose lyrics go like this:

"Every single cell of my body is happy. Every single cell of my body is well. I thank you, Lord. I feel so good. Every single cell of my body is well."

Biology-sharp nerds would readily agree with me in this digression... Over their lifetimes, cells are assaulted by a host of biological insults and injuries. The cells go through such ordeals as infection, trauma, extremes of temperature, exposure to toxins in the environment, and damage from metabolic processes-- this last item is often self-inflicted and includes a merry motley medley of smoking a deck a day of Philip Morris menthols, drinking currant-flavored vodka or suds, overindulgence in red meat or the choicest fat-marbled cuts of poultry and such carcass.

When the damage gets to a certain point, cells self-destruct. T…

KASI NANLABAN

Viagra au naturel

IT LOOKED eerie—a blaze of fireflies pulsing like stars in the nippy air, throbbing with mating passions. That show of lights somehow eased the shadows of a Holy Thursday night on a dry river bed a few kilometers trudge up Mount Makiling.

It’s likely that no river has lain in sleep for months on that moss-grown, boulder-strewn bed—except my 20-year old kid Kukudyu and I. We were out to spend the night, do on-site learning sessions by the next day. Usual father-and-son bonding. As the late Benjamin Franklin once begged: "Tell me and I forget. Teach me and I remember. Involve me and I learn."

Past noon from the foot of the mountain’s northern section, it took us four hours ploughing non-stop through prickly bushes and forest undergrowth to get to that site. We got there in one bruised piece. By then, dusk was falling; the sylvan air hummed with a trill of crickets, cicadas, critters nameless in choral orison. That incessant “sh-r-r-e-eemmm---“ layered with “k-kr-r-eeengg--” …