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?

By John Scalzi

I enjoy pie.

60 replies on “Ow”

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.

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 back to the tooth. Small world. Piano Man. Tooth……see??

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.)

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

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.


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.

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.

@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.”)

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

i not chang chang

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…


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.

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….

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