Zombie mouth

What's zombie mouth, you ask?  Well, I went back to London three weeks ago, and I ordered bangers and mash for my dinner.  It's my favourite pub food and I hadn't had it in nearly a year, so when it arrived at my table, Ol' Greedyguts here was so excited that I immediately crammed some into my face.  Which would have been absolutely fine if the sausage hadn't been approximately the same temperature as the surface of the sun - it was so hot that it quite literally fused to the roof of my mouth.  All of the skin there immediately blistered and ripped open, so I had shreds of my own flesh hanging down into my mouth like little stalactites of skin.   It was excruciatingly painful and absolutely revolting - now I know why zombies are always so dang hostile...

Now, you might think that I would be eating nothing but ice chips for a few days after that, but don't be ridiculous, Miss K is made of sterner stuff than that.  I was in London and I was damn well going to make the most of it.  I was staying with friends and not eating in public, so was able to eat and drink in my normal excessive fashion, but in a manner that I like to call the "baby bird" technique - small bites, chew everything really well and then fling my head back and gulp it down with my mouth slightly open.  Yes, I'm just that classy.  Hey, when you spend a whole week with no skin on your hard palate and every swallow is so painful that it feels like your mouth is filled with battery acid, then you can judge me.

So let's add up the tally for my excessively accident-prone year - first there was the bald eye, then the cartoon-sized foot, and then zombie mouth.  Miss K really is quite a catch, gentle readers, can you even believe I'm still single???