When my wisdom teeth started to grow 10 years ago, all I experienced was some swelling and minor pain, and even those quickly subsided. I didn’t need to go through the horrors of extraction, and for that I considered myself lucky.
Well, that was too early to say.
Recently, pieces of my lower right wisdom tooth started falling off. The dentist said it was too decayed to be restored, and had to be removed. Also, it is “mesially impacted” (in laymen’s term, lying horizontally and partially encased in the gum), so a surgery is needed. Worse, X-ray shows the root tip is close to a nerve, which makes the surgery extra risky. The surgery could damage the nerve which could, in the worst case, lead to permanent facial paralysis.
If you see me smiling on only one side of the face, please understand that I’m not being smirky.
Toy vending machine in Taipei
I’ll never look at the corkscrew-shaped pasta the same way again.
In my latest unusual dream, my father is horribly disfigured by an unknown disease.
Half of his face has become transparent, revealing that his entire head is filled with murky water and fusilli.
I swear I’m not making this up.
I was on the plane to Amsterdam, trying to get some sleep after dinner. Dad was seated next to me.
Then I discovered something at the back of the armrest. It was a toe.
The woman behind us had put her foot through the space between me and dad, and laid it on my armrest.
The gentlemanly response would be to patiently explain to her the differences between an armrest and a footrest, but I’m never much of a gentleman.
Instead, I rolled the vomit bag into a mini-baton and gave her toe a tender knock, together with a glance that said: “Do that again, and you’ll walk differently for the rest of your life.”
She should be thankful that the dinner utensils were already collected, because at that moment I was tempted to saw her toe off.
I’m one of the few people who find dyed hair a turnoff.
The fact that I’m Chinese might make you think I only like persons with black hair. No. I have no aversion to any hair colour, as long as it is the one the person is born with.
Some offenders are worse than others. On the extreme end of the spectrum, there are people whose hair colour draws suspicion that one or more of his ancestors must be a peacock. Brazen golden highlights are an eyesore. Subtle dyes are less aesthetically criminal, but the original colour is still the best of all.
This is because hair is an important element of romantic attraction and intimacy. When you run your hand through the hairs of your sweetheart, you don’t want some obscure chemicals to get in the way. Yuck! It ruins everything. This is like eating a piece of exquisite gourmet cake with the plastic wrap on.
本來以為拍月亮一定要300mm長鏡和三腳架，不過這張以D80 kit鏡手持拍攝的（1/80s, f/5.6, 125mm, ISO: 200），效果也比想像中好。
All he needs for a happy hour is a stool and some newspaper.
Terminal 2 of Charles de Gaulle Airport, gilded by the setting sun