I'm Not Going to Fukushima for a Check-Up and Polish!

The next time I go to the dentist I'm asking for a 30 mile exclusion zone.

Just think - I'll be able to drive home in comfort, not having to use my psychic powers to find out if the person on the roundabout is going to turn off or not (the use of indicators being optional it seems).

"But why the exclusion zone oh befuddled know-nothing of the Internet?" I hear you ask (yes you: you know that I know, that you know that I know, who you are!).

Come on son - it's only the dentists!

Well, yesterday on the radio some "expert" (aren't they all?) opined how the radiation from the Japanese nuclear power plant at Fukushima was at the same level as when you have an x-ray at the dentist.

Hmmm. OK.

Today we've been told (by another "expert" - see!) that a 30 mile exclusion zone is a justified and apt response to the events at the plant.

Righty ho.

Funny isn't it? I didn't realise that when I was last in the chair of doom, with a chunk of plastic in my cakehole and a James Bond style death ray pointing at my cheek, that everyone within 30 miles was at risk.

I wondered where the dentist went when he left the room! Flipping heck - he gets to 30 miles away and back fast. He must have a James Bond baddie escape-pod too.

I'll have a word with Dafydd my dentist next time... I'm sure he'll be chuffed at the news that his 30 mile secret is out.

As Wolfie Smith might say: Power to the people!

But what if the government moves all dentists to Cape Wrath? Then my drive home will be slightly more inconvenient. Blast.