Pretty sure I have a cracked molar. I have to blame someone, because this is clearly not my fault. So: Who wants to be blamed? Hands! Anyone? Anyone?

60 Comments on “Ow”

  1. Okay, I’ll take the rap. It’s my fault, John. I used my psychic powers to crack your molar. I’m sorry, I didn’t really think it would work, and I was reading your blog when I decided to to test my ability.

  2. I suppose it says something about internet culture that when I read “cracked molar” I began imagining a comedic top-ten list.

  3. I blame Jay Leno. The whole world’s gone to hell since he took Letterman’s Tonight Show gig out from under him.

    And get off my lawn!

  4. i did it. I’m evil that way, nothing massive or hugely destructive. just that annoyance that is always there, similar to singing “it’s a small world” endlessly after the ride, or humming “Piano Man” by Billy Joel after the song has been played. You’re humming it now aren’t you..now back to the tooth. Small world. Piano Man. Tooth……see??

  5. If the shoe hurts, crack it.

    Sorry about the tooth, John. You were supposed to find that large, pricy gem before chewing and swallowing.

    (If there’s anything worse than dentists, it has to be toothouch. Or maybe being forced to All My Exes Live in Texas on repeat, but probably toothouch.)

  6. I also have a cracked molar. Going to get it fixed at the end of the month.

    You might be grinding your teeth in your sleep. That can do a lot of damage.

  7. On a serious note, do you grind your teeth at night? Could that be how this happened? You might ask the dentist if this could be the case. You may need a nightguard.

  8. I see that you made the dentist appointment. I hope you’re already on the way to the dental office.


    I have room to accept the blame, if you need someone to step up to the plate. My teenager hasn’t yet told me this week that everything is my fault.

  9. I suffered two cracked molars when I was 10, in a bike accident that was very definitely my fault. Since I’ve survived three decades since then, I’ll take the heat for yours as well. Just add it to the pile.

  10. Dana King – Laurel MD – Dana King has two Shamus Award nominations, for A Small Sacrifice and The Man in the Window. His Penns River series of police procedurals includes Worst Enemies and Grind Joint, which Woody Haut, writing for the L.A. Review of Books, cited as one of the fifteen best noir reads of 2013. Down and Out Books will release the next book in the Penns River series, Resurrection Mall, in May 2017. A short story, "Green Gables," appeared in the anthology Blood, Guts, and Whiskey, edited by Todd Robinson. Other short fiction has appeared in Spinetingler, New Mystery Reader, A Twist of Noir, Mysterical-E, and Powder Burn Flash. His newest book is A Dangerous Lesson. Dana’s blog, One Bite at a Time, resides at danaking.blogspot.com. He lives in quiet near seclusion with The Beloved Spouse.
    Dana King

    Blame gay marriage. It’s convenient and no less responsible for the demise of your tooth than it is for the demise of heterosexual marriage as in institution.

  11. Barack Obama, of course. This is how he gets you – he sneaks into your house, late at night and cracks your molar. That means you have to go to the dentist, which is part of his web of Nazi Communist Brainwashers, who will put you under anesthesia and hypnotize you into gay marrying an illegal immigrant.

    The man is ruthless, I tell you. Today Scalzi, tomorrow THE WORLD!

  12. Sorry about that. Turns out the line of transmitters we were installing in the late 90’s was defective and had to be recalled. I thought we’d replaced them all, but clearly we missed one.

  13. I swear I totally didn’t do it. The dental voodoo doll and the sample of your skin culture taken from Worldcon are just for show, man.

    Anyhow, that sucks. Hope you have a good dentist.

  14. csdaley – C.S. Daley was born in California but has spent most of his life in his imagination. His first short story written in third grade, the now classic "Close Encounters of the Turd Kind," was sold to his next door neighbor for a quarter. The neighbor promptly demanded a refund. An unhealthy obsession with the writings of Neil Gaiman, Christopher Moore, and Terry Pratchett have left his mind warped and broken. He spends most of his evening swilling down coffee while tapping at a keyboard under the watchful eyes of his kittens. They are there to make sure he doesn't snap. He likes to write fantasy for adults and teens.

    I refuse to take the blame.
    Go ahead and try to pin it on me.
    I have decided to join everyone else in our wasn’t my fault society.
    I am drawing the line here.
    Plus, I am sure that it is O.J.’s fault.

  15. Don’t blame Canada, blame Stephen Harper (our Prime Minister); everything bad thing that happens is his fault.

    More so now that we are likely to go into an election in the fall.


  16. I require a root canal, and because of my insurance carrier, i had to wait until 9/1 to even SEE the dentist. My root canal appointment is on Tuesday. Until then I’m on soft foods (chewing on one side of my mouth has caused TMJ) such as this room-temperature pudding I’m currently enjoying.

    I feel your pain. Oh no wait, that’s MY pain I’m feeling. Doh.

  17. John, you may be The Man, but remember, it’s The Man who’s keeping you down, and you can’t really keep yourself down. Therefore, for the limited purpose of your cracked molar, somebody else is The Man.

  18. @39 mythago:

    Unless The Man who is keeping Scalzi down is a John Scalzi from the future, who cracked Scalzi’s molar today to prevent him from posting or tweeting something that would ultimately cause a chain reaction that would destroy life as we know it. (Think Marx’s Communist Manifesto meets Heinlein’s “By His Bootstraps.”)

  19. It’s Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert’s fault. If they hadn’t gone on vacation for three weeks, this wouldn’t have happened. Everything bad happens when they’re on vacation.

  20. changterhune – Before you hear lies from Chang Terhune himself, we thought we’d tell you the truth: without us, his old action figures, he’d be nowhere. He loved science fiction from way back and began reading it at an early age, but it was through us that he acted it all out. That’s what led to the writing. He watched a lot of science fiction shows like Star Trek, U.F.O, and movies, too. But we were always there to do his bidding. And it’s like they say: you always forget about the little people on your way up. Oh, the 70’s and early 80’s with him were good times! He’d use these blocks and make all the crazy buildings for us to be in his stories. I gotta say the kid’s imagination was pretty damn fertile. Oh, he had friends, but they just weren’t into it like him. He was like the Lance Armstrong of action figures. And of science fiction. At first, when he began writing in the eighth grade, we didn’t mind. He still made time for us. And we knew that when he was holding us in his sweaty little hands and he got that far off look in his eye, he’d come back to burying us in the back yard or - god forbid! – blowing us up with firecrackers. But it was worth it for a part in one of those stories. We loved him for it. He kept us around even when we were minus a leg or two - or even a head. In that mind of his, he found a use for all of us. Then he discovered girls. October, 1986. It was like the end of the world. One day we’re standing in the middle of this building block creation he’d pretended was some marble city on a planet near Alpha Centauri and the next we were stuck in a box in the closet. Not even a “See ya later!” Nope, it was into the closet, then we heard some high-pitched girly-giggles then silence. We didn’t see him for years. We got word about him once in a while. Heard he took up writing, but it was crap like “The Breakfast Club” only with better music. We couldn’t believe it. Not Charlie. What happened to those aliens with heads he’d sculpted out of wax? Spaceships? Those complex plots? All gone. For what? You guessed it: Girls. Emotions. “Serious fiction.” I tell you, it was like hearing Elvis had left the building. During our two decade exile in the closet, we heard other things about him. He went to college. He wrote a lot, but not much he really liked. We knew it even then. It was like he didn’t dare write science fiction. Some of us had lost hope and just lay there. Others kept vigil, hoping for a day we didn’t dare speak about. Then we heard he’d stopped writing in 1996. Did he come to reclaim us? No. He took up music for ten years or so. He took up yoga. Once in a while, he’d visit us in the closet. But it was half-hearted. His mind was elsewhere. Then one day, he really did come back for us. One second we’re in the dark and the next thing we know we’re in a car headed for Massachusetts. Suddenly we got a whole shelf to ourselves out in broad daylight! Then he bought a bunch of others form some planet called Ebay. He’d just sit and stare at us with that old look. But why were we suddenly back in the picture? He had a wife now, who didn’t mind that he played with us. So what had happened? Turns out he’d never forgotten about those stories. He’d been thinking about all of us and the stories he’d made up and then remembered he’d been a writer once. From the shelf we could see him typing away. Before long he’s got a whole novel together! Then he’s working on another one. Word is there are two more in the planning stages! Some short stories, too! It’s good to see him using his imagination again. Its good to know he never abandoned us. He returned to his true love of science fiction. We hear the stories are pretty good. Someday we’ll get one of the cats to score us a copy of the manuscript. Man, it’s good to be out of the damn closet! --- I'm smarter than you I'm harder than you I'm better than you I'm just raw I'm hotter than you More popular than you More clever than you And goshdarn it, people like me I'm smarter than you I'm harder than you I'm better than you I'm just raw I'm hotter than you More popular than you More clever than you And goshdarn it, people like me

    you no put up cute pictures of kitty
    i put curse on you

    i not chang chang

  21. (Think Marx’s Communist Manifesto meets Heinlein’s “By His Bootstraps.”)

    No. And you can’t make me think of it, either.

  22. actually, it was my fault. i’ve been having tooth issues the past week or so, woke up this morning and only have a bit of jaw pain; tooth pain is gone.

    i’m guessing i wasn’t a good candidate for such discomfort, and my pain looked for a better jaw…


  23. Blame your Intelligent Designer — who apparently aced Nebulas and Mountains and Air in Their Macro-Existence classes, but struggled, pass-fail, through the Micro-Existence curriculum: Eyes, Lower Backs, Teeth.

  24. Your Dentist’s kid’s tuition bill is due, and he has a car payment on the 15th.

    Blame him.

    My Dentist is married to my Hand Therapist, I have serious hand problems requiring periodic surgery, they compete to see who can hurt me the most.

  25. Well, I’m about to get tooth 19 finally fixed, after a two-month saga. I don’t know if I can take responsibility for your problems, but if you do manage to get it fixed in short order, I will take the credit for getting your bad luck along with my own. Because I’m REALLY getting sick of this.

    I want ribs tomorrow for dinner. Real, chewy, grind-over-my-molars ribs. MMMMMM. I think a trip to Smokey Bones is in order….

  26. Well, you could blame me, if you’d showed up to that party at WorldCon and eaten some of my chocolates. But you didn’t, so this is Not My Fault.

    Please blame me anyway. It will help my rep.

  27. Marybeth @56: Hey, my problem is with tooth 19, too! And I’ve had to wait months to get my tooth fixed, too!

    *Tooth 19 Fistbump*

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