Tag Archives: saliva

How to Give a Good Nose Job

My favourite gay club night was Spice, when it was held in SPY night club, South William Street. The plush interior of SPY, three rooms of amazing music and the crème de la crème of the gay scene made these nights memorable. The hay day of Spice coincided with the time I broke up with my boyfriend of three years. I spent many a night at Spice, dancing energetically to nostalgic tunes, attempting to convince myself I was happy as a singleton. Denial aside, I did have fun. Spice will forever be my Studio 54.

Later the same year, Boyfriend and I reconciled. We made another go of it on the basis we attempt remedy the issues that caused us to break up. Both of us felt we needed to socialise more as a couple. We injected a healthy dose of “coupley” outings into our relationship. One such outing was a visit to my favourite club night. On this particular evening, we encountered some of Boyfriend’s friends he made during our six months apart. One friend, Mike, was what you might term a ‘celebrity’ gay; a Eurovision song writer with an on-off-even-more-celebrity-gay boyfriend. He was – and always is – groomed and well dressed. He sported an air of self-importance and a tight t-shirt, showing his fine arms and pecs. I should chat with him and make an effort, I thought. He and I stood side by side in the nightclub. Dance music pounded from the massive speakers under the DJ’s decks. Strobes flashed in time with the music. I leaned in to deliver some small talk. I spoke loudly over the music.

“I love Spice. I’ve had more fun here than I have in any other night club.”

“The music makes it. I love it,” he agreed, nodding energetically.

I withdrew from his ear. What could we talk about next? Still thinking, I turned to survey the room, checking out the eye candy. I can only say I intended to talk to him again; I turned my head right, while looking to my left, absorbing the visuals on offer. As my head pivoted, my peripheral vision detected my companion’s head was much closer to me than expected. He was clearly doing the same as I, turning his head towards me, with no knowledge of where I was. It’s hard to describe the exact dynamics, but our heads collided at such a warped angle, just as I was about to speak, that Mike’s nose entered my mouth. It did not just graze or slightly poke my mouth; it went right in, withdrawing a coating of saliva as it exited. I was mortified.

“Eh, I am so sorry.”

He wiped his nose dry. “Don’t worry about it.”

The small talk continued, Meanwhile, I awkwardly remained next to him, praying we would leave his company. My face was red with embarrassment. I just sucked this guy’s nose, was all I could think. I just sucked this guy’s nose!

Weeks later, Boyfriend invited me to attend dinner with his friends one Saturday night. He noted my hesitance to respond.

“You really don’t like them, do you?” His tone was accusatory.

“No, they’re OK,” I said. I looked down at the floor. “I am a little embarrassed about seeing Mike.”

“Why on Earth would you be embarrassed about seeing him? Mike specifically asked me to bring you.”

I told Boyfriend the story of sucking off Mike’s nose. I can’t recall him ever laughing so hard as he did.

I never made the dinner in the end but I did provide a topic for conversation; Boyfriend repeated the Nose Story to the ten or so people in attendance. Apparently, the gathering, including Mike who had no memory of the incident, burst into convulsions at the tale.

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Brace Yourself

I am a twenty seven year old, braces wearing adult. This is hard to embrace sometimes. My mates and I have shared many a giggle in my attempt to cope with my mouth-paraphernalia through humour. Over the past six weeks of having braces, I have encountered numerous highs and lows along the route that will lead to a perfect smile. Here is a list of some peaks and troughs:

Dribble; for the first week or two, I had problems with excess saliva. I dribbled on myself numerous times. I was like a stroke victim. Most mornings I continue to wake up in a pillow full of drool. I worry about staining the pillow cases of my friends when I stay over. Dribbling gets particularly bad when I am hungry. My mouth gushes with spittle in the anticipation of nourishment.

Mouth Ulcers; this is by far the worst aspect of having braces. For the first few weeks, ulcers formed on my cheeks and tongue. I thought they’d never subside. Talking and eating was so difficult it impacted my mood. Ulcers are no longer a problem since my discovery of miracle product Aloclair. The creator of this product should be sainted in my opinion. I have set up a shrine to this person.

Speech; the dual effects of ulcers and excess saliva had a severe impact on my speech. Notable moments include asking for “two thoffees” in a café. During a conversation, I once referred to London and New York as “big sissies”. Luckily, over a month or so, I have adapted. I now over-pronounce words like a dodgy Shakespearian actor. I continue to have bad days when hung-over or tired.

Food; eating was so difficult that I gave it up for a few weeks. Food stuff just kept getting tangled. I shed a significant amount of weight. I’m unable to bite into things since my front teeth are sensitive. Foods like chips, rice and lettuce are avoided. I’ve brushed my teeth in a posh restaurant bathroom. Once, during a run, a small piece of ginger dislodged somewhere from my brace. It made for an unpleasant surprise.

Men; I reckon I am more conscious of my braces than other people are. On the rare occasion I am chatted up, I fear the guy might notice my train tracks and do a U-turn. A guy like this is obviously not worth knowing. I should think of it as a screening process. Should I meet Mr Nice, I have a mental image of him leaning in for a kiss and getting his tongue getting caught in my metallic finish. This is clearly ridiculous, but it has crossed my mind.

Overall, I know braces are not forever. I am gradually getting used to them. Part of my treatment requires me wearing a jaw expander for five months. I’ve posted a picture of this below. When the orthodontist presented this to me, I stared in disbelief, gawping at its considerable size. Within minutes he lodged it into my gob. I reckon this piece of equipment could convert a guy to Judaism within a few seconds.