Man, to have dental surgery on your birthday. I walked him home yesterday at his request (and Keith’s, the text I got from him was so nervous granny-like it was sweet as heck), and we hung around his place for the afternoon being lazy. Molars make damn big holes. Now he has to wait a month to get the sutures out, and then be healed enough to get a post and implant.
140/82 is my blood pressure, I checked yesterday. I won’t say what Paul’s blood pressure was since it was somewhere between ouch and boing.
I made pulled pork. It is nommy.
