The trouble with Pisconia is that there are far too many wide-open spaces surrounded by teeth

In 1668 they were known as ‘teeth of wisdom’.

In 1848 they were renamed as the more snappy ‘wisdom teeth’.

In 2006 they are known only as those fucking huge lumps of calcium at the back of one’s mouth that provide very little improved chewing ability, but the distinct possibility of a pay check for the dental profession. Yes Pisco-people, today you learn about the agony that come from having drills, saws, tubes and needle and thread rammed into your gob, and whopping great big teeth removed as a dental nurse says (a little too loudly, making you feel like an elderly person who is being talked at by an idiot) “are you alright Mr. Collins?” To which you reply, “yearghh… ummm gah urghhhh”. To make matters worse, before you leave the blasted chair you’re told the following –

• You might be in pain now, but the anaesthetic is wearing off and you ain’t felt nothing yet,
• There is a slim chance that you’ll never be able to feel half of you mouth and tongue again, rendering all attempts to speak, snog, sing, eat and drink futile,
• Here is a prescription. These antibiotics will sustain the uncomfortable feeling you have right now for about four days, during which any attempt to alleviate your pain with a well deserved alcoholic beverage will result in you vomiting your internal organs out of your body, rendering you a shallow husk of a human, and...
• We'll see you again in a fortnight! Woop!

So all this happened on Wednesday, and yet here I am at work, still holding my face all funny, still in awe of the futility of these damn teeth, and still feeling sorry for myself. Having said that, at least I got some proper after-operation care with the tablets and whatnot – apparently when Ed had his out, he was told just to avoid eating crisps! Like, a person stumbling out of a dentist’s with a hole the size of the Grand Canyon in the back of their mouth wouldn’t suss that crisps would be best kept off the menu for a while. Sheesh!

Anyway, Pisco people will be pleased to know we’ve actually got round to sending some copies of ‘Drunks and Plastic Knives’ off to influential music types, so expect some scathing reviews sooner or later. In addition, we’re playing tonight at The Grapes (best pub in Sheffield, along with the Cobden View in Crookes) with The Vipers – a band who are so good they have to change their name frequently to stay one step ahead of the law at all times – and the beloved and beautiful Mr. David Woodcock, whom we all love. We’re sold out of CDs at the moment and it’ll be a few days before we manage to carve some more, so if you’ve still not got one, swing by The Laundrette. Keep smiling all!

Petros Petros Pisco