Adieu Dental Floss and Toothbrush

(21st century pearly white prosthetics, restored jaw bar wah key) Aye noel hunger bristle, and when false teeth soak at night in tandem with stubby facial gristle har reckon noah kisses far me under mistle toe, which prickly stubble ma home grown thistle the downside being, not one chic chick, foxy gal can I sound cat call whistle. All those years I underwent orthodontic care for naught cuz profound gum recession and bone dissolution (advanced periodontal disease) found me fraught with angst riddled necessity, whence dentures bought and brought emotional relief, where financial cost to me equaled aught. Though grievous o'er grandiose diet of baby food – reg gar agit tay shun rubs raw rib bill bit subject recently queried fit ting lee (tummy eldest sister) now answered with true grit sans state 'o me health of body, mind and spirit yea...yea...with the following poe whet tics git writ. Ten re guard ding learn'n tuck cap cha current day coup page with collage of words that best attempt to convey how one feels after half dozen teeth removed, yes, that day of departure fur remaining lower teeth transpired countless months ago with gums sorely adjusted dats da tooth full testament to grinning, and bearing final surrender of thine bottom choppers. Twas not with glee this dear bro did accept fate, and now twitters like crow adjusting new sans parabolic learning curve to talk where speech formerly akin to blob of dough being formless, yet with for rest full gumption resignation to these extractions did flow into mine psyche (with twinge of accursed displease), boot go to the University of Pennsylvania Dental School and heave I've hen hoe, this scrivener and regular joe tried to find silver lining ya noun owe removal of upper teeth from those less than five centimeters below. Long since scheduled about four bajillion weeks (in the past, and relegated tummy personal dustbin of history) i.e. aboot Bad Jillian deux fortnight found yours truly unable to reef er to the skin of my teeth, yea this circumstance doth null hunger suck n bit 'though once dentures fitted, thee psychological gloom (per maxillofacial situation) with relief insurance picked up tab breathes sigh of relief all day'n height. if hi ignored grim state of vital accessories to chew this har chap experienced additional molars, cuspids, canines... falling out though few remained upon embarkation, per painful turn of events, grew ling a smidgen less worse than getting tossed out hoo chee coot chee mama into the freezing brutal cold by none other than Donald Trump eskimo master of royal igloo, while Sarah Ann aid ding howling winds of n arctic monkey shape shifting into polar vortex, wood dove probably found me coo wing in deleterious state of health thru and thru. Other than the above Matthew Scott Harris feels great well.... on the bright side - no need to brush nor floss, when ma mouth opened ajar - bing permanently totally toothless - aye noel anger viz self hate, hence nor feel inclined to master ventriloquism, boot axe hep oral void analogous newborn as innate vis a visa discover ring joyus toothless state.