The everyday blog of Richard Bartle.
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12:32pm on Friday, 7th October, 2005:
I've been outhere in the USA for so long that I ran out of toothpaste and had to buy some more.
OK, well the tube was half empty anyway, and I also needed a new toorhbrush because the one I keep for travel had dried up and the bristles were coming out (which I have an irrational fear of, because I once heard of a woman who swallowed a toothbrush bristle and it pierced her appendex). So I went to get some good ol' American toothpaste, in the hope that it might contain tooth-cleaning ingredients banned in the EU.
Here's where my intrepid explorer leanings get me into trouble. I didn't buy just any size of toothpaste, oh no, I bought one the size of a cosh. It'll take me until 2006 to make any visible impact on its vast capacity. I'm hoping it won't put my suitcase over weight for the flight home. It's made by Colgate, it's not some unknown brand; nevertheless, I didn't realise they sold toothpaste in catering pack sizes.
Also, I bought it in a new flavour for me — vanilla! I have never seen vanilla toothpaste before. I have seen toothpaste in precisely three flavours: mint (the standard); strawberry (to coax young children to brush their teeth); meat (for dogs). I've never seen vanilla. Now I have a lifetime's supply of it.
It's like brushing my teeth with caramel. It's sticky, sickly, and I just want to eat it. It's a bizarre experience. I'm hoping my children will like it when I get back, because if they don't it's going to wind up on top of a cupcake or something. I don't suppose it's actually bad for my teeth, but it's bad for my psyche.
Maybe if I talk to myself enough it'll go away.
Referenced by Peppermint Popcorn.
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