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In Hot Pursuit of Happiness

On Teeth and Tits…

draft_lens18786273module154640978photo_1319905551tyson_bites_holyfieldAt the risk of sounding like an elderly person… It’s an absolute SHAME. In fact, it’s BEYOND that. In 1997, during one of the most anticipated boxing matches of the time, Mike Tyson scandalised the world by using his teeth on Evander Holyfield when his fists failed. It was horrifying for fans of both boxers, a horrifying incident for anyone who ever played sports –unheard of, completely unsportsman-like –enfin, it was décidément not The Cricket. So gravely did this incident mark the Sports world, it is sadly the first thing that Mike Tyson is remembered for, and the perhaps too the first thing to be mentioned in association with the word ‘boxing’ –after Muhammad Ali, naturally. I never imagined I’d see the day when biting came to football. In fact, had I not seen it with my own eyes (over and over) this would have been a completely different post. But I DID see it, and even then, my brain refused to register what my eyes were communicating, so I basically sat in disbelief for half an hour. By this time, another message was pressing for registration: The use of teeth in football had been overlooked. Uruguay went on to win the match, and I decided that I’d never watch another World Cup match ever again.

FIFA BitesClearly the game has degraded into a completely DIFFERENT game, which cannot be called, and which I shall never again refer to as Football. I’ll call it Soccer. No. Socker, since the new aim seems to be to sock it to whomever gets/ is/ happens to be/ might soon be in one’s way. I would call it Shocker, but some might think I’m slurring. Bref, it’s a SCANDAL. I knew the levels of corruption in South America rivalled those in Africa, I didn’t know they could outdo them. Shock on me. At least the Ghanaians have been subtle enough to make people bother to find them out. The way things are going, we’re headed for an all-South American finale (prepared well in advance) and I’m just not buying it. In fact, I am actually “shocked and saddened” by all these FIFA goings-on.

Teeth and TitsThe expression “teeth and tits” is, as its wittiness supposes, a British one, referring to those things to check before, and to present immediately beginning an important meeting. In an informal environment, it is almost instinctive to give out a warm smile, as hands are extended in greeting/welcome, and also to stand straighter (simultaneously, in the case of women, pushing their tits out slightly more) when a significant meeting is about to take place, to indicate confidence. Still, I suppose that for men, it’s more “teeth and hair” that will impress. I’ve certainly known myself to experience a flutter when a man smiled at me while flicking his hair… though that was some centuries ago.

tony-goldwynAt the moment, I have to admit that the only man eliciting any kind of reaction from me is Tony Goldwyn (he plays the President in the series ‘Scandal’) –but even that was more series 2. Why? Don’t ask me. The man has lovely hair, but no eyebrows. Something around his mouth, and excellent jawline, I suspect, with aaaaaallllllll that this implies. Something too, about his soulful eyes… very distracting. Er… best we move on, I think.

For those of you who may not know it, it’s officially Winter, in Kenya, and I’m fully expecting it to snow. I haven’t felt this cold in years. There’s no need for me to check my teeth, because they’re constantly chattering, in degrees ranging from pianissimo (where it looks like I’m murmuring to myself) to fortissimo (an epileptic attack while scared -with full grimace), and are therefore visible 16/7. My tits also look as if they’re out 16/7 -the nipples turned against the cold and into bullets a week ago, and have stayed that way. Unfortunately, this means I’ve have to pad them before putting on a bra, because of the knowing looks I received from a bank teller on the day they changed shape; it’s easier than going around assuring people that they’re not attractive to you.

Winter-bedWhat of the silver lining, you ask? Oh it’s SO there. I actually love the cold, because you can layer up anyhowly, especially in old favourite clothes, wear soft thick socks, and Bed turns into a Cocoon of Blissful Warmth, Peace and Rest… as opposed to the Slab of Sticky, Dampness. I’m taking a week off to hibernate, and cannot WAIT.

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About Ciggie Cramond

Ciggie Cramond is an author, writer, editor and translator currently living in Nairobi, where she is actively writing her next book, supporting Arsenal, and looking for The One... Online, naturally!

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