Doctor Strange Tounge: Or, How I learned to stop worrying and love the scrotum.

Over my life, my tongue has grieved me many times. I remember all those times that my tongue just would not function. Usually there were girls involved. Sometimes job interviewers. Then there were the times that my tongue worked too well. It said things that I thought I was only thinking inside my head. In hindsight  the latter has provided some pretty good memories. My tongue DOES have some wit. Once or twice my tongue decided to park itslef right between my teeth  mid bite. A few years ago half of my tongue went completely numb. I probably shouldn't single my tongue out on that one as the rest of my face had gone frigid too.

Worst of all, my tongue is gross. Deformed. It could easily be mistaken for a map of all the fault lines here in earthquake prone California. It's CRACKED!! It's a soft pink Rorschach test. It's been that way forever. One more reason I should keep my mouth shut. Though I rarely do. 

Yesterday I was at the dentist and he, pointing out the obvious, asked if I knew about the cracks in my tongue. I said I did. 

   "Do you know why?" he asked. I didn't, but suspected that I would soon find out. Great!! I've always been curious as to why it's that way.

   "I don't know either." he told me. "I do see it now and then though."

  Damn. Still a mystery. I decided to google the subject as soon as I got home. Let me just tell you that I am in no danger. What I have (it's a full blown syndrome apparently) is not at all harmful. Except maybe, to ones ego. For it seems that I am afflicted with Scrotal Tongue!!! It's fantastic. I'm SO ok with it. I want to run around town with my fissured tongue hanging from my mouth screaming "Wanna see a scrotal tongue?? Five dollars please!" I'm a freak show. I will probably never get rich from this, but I am certain that my tongue will have some great stories to tell!