J has a dental appointment this morning so I go along and make an appointment for next week to have my bridge replaced - or step one thereof. It's about thirty years old, more or less - I haven't really kept track - and apparently these things don't last forever. Ernie, our dentist at home, says that teeth are only designed to last about forty years - in which case we're pleased to be outliving them. Should have had haircuts as well, as part of the general self-improvement process, but our usual spot is very fullso we decide not to wait.
Down to M's flat at four for drinks - and to examine the mysterious shell she's found. A dark shadow inhabits the interior, presumably once alive but dissection with a kitchen knife just leads it to crumble.
Gaddafi makes a bizarre speech, looking strangely like Baron Von Munchausen. He vows to stay to the last bullet and to die in his country, leading one to hope someone puts him out of his misery before there are too many hundred more bodies on the street.
JAWORSKI TRAVELS