Rest easy that your breath is fresh and your belly full. With that fresh pick hoisted ever-so-gently between your lips, walk out into the dusk and think about what you’ve done. And then, throw it away and break out a second one. Cleanse your palate of all that came before. Rehearse how you’ll introduce the toothpick to your mouth. Relish the life-affirming snap of the cheap plastic container as you lock it back into place. Unsheath your Tea Tree stylet like the ever-forgiving sidearm it is. Just go for it.Īnd then, on your way out, redeem yourself. Stain your teeth with red wine and Scotch whiskey. There should be a lot of butter involved and stinky, oozing cheeses. Shellfish and organ meat and stringy stewed vegetables. In that spirit, when it comes to the kind of meal to eat before chomping down for some Tea Tree Therapy, I recommend a distinctly uncool one. I know this is a publication focused on health and wellness, but I maintain that indulging is an act of self-care, as long as it’s not done too frequently. Nonetheless, the ultimate use case for this toothpick remains the original one: after eating a fine meal. They even help me keep my mouth shut sometimes. Freud would’ve loved these things – they solve any oral fixation. People do it to stop smoking, drinking, snacking – you name it. I also love chewing toothpicks because it is one of the only vices left that’s socially acceptable. There’s a Rebel Without A Cause feeling about chewing on one of these bad boys. But is it kind of cool that you could? The product guy in me says yes. Should you do this on a first date, or ever, really? No. Should you want to look truly insane, as I sometimes do, you can actually snap off this piece, place it on a surface and then rest the toothpick on top with the side you’d chew on hoisted up in the air, safe from any surface-borne contaminants. There is one “innovation” about this particular brand – the top of the picks come indented with a line in the wood. It’s supposedly good for your gums since tea tree oil is one of the oldest natural antiseptic and anti-inflammatory salves known to man. The tea tree oil infusion is alluring, dare I say exotic. I have a firm belief that using cinnamon toothpaste should be added to the Macdonald Triad. This brand makes cinnamon toothpicks as well, but don’t get them. If you buy them somewhere that’s not implementing an outrageous markup, a pack of 100 should cost $3 max.

They seem fancy, but trust me, they’re not. To be blunt – I want them with me all of the time, forever. Instead, I highly recommend these Tea Tree Therapy toothpicks. Now – what toothpick to choose? An artisanal option defeats the purpose although, yes, they do exist. Quickly, the illusion of a need for the little wooden utensils arose and they became a common sight all around the country, used both for their God-given purpose and as a kind of fashion accessory. Forster would then return to the establishment and sell them toothpicks. When none were available, they guffawed and left. He had attractive young Harvard men frequent local apothecaries and restaurants in Boston and ask for wooden toothpicks. Then came an enterprising gentleman named Charles Forster who utilized a method later employed by the likes of Grey Goose to much success. Yet before the 19th Century, most common folk used to just whittle them at-will whenever the need for the instrument arose. In the 17th Century, European royalty had them cast out of precious metals, encrusted with gemstones fit for a Baroque 2 Chainz. The Ancient Romans made them out of mastic wood. The toothpick is considered by anthropologists to be one of the most ubiquitous tools in history – with evidence of toothpicks even predating modern humans to the era of Neanderthals. If there’s not… I don’t know, chew on it. If there’s food stuck in there, get it out. In this maelstrom of existential nonsense, there’s something sublime about the toothpick. How could anyone even imagine putting their feet in a pair of sneakers, in lieu of elevating these limited-edition accessories to the status of art, bought and sold at auction like a Da Vinci. What nerve one must have to buy an elegant trench coat and then actually wear it in the rain. How dare you use my Noguchi table for eating off. Objects have lost the very functionalities that used to define them. I believe postmodernism is one of the most destructive trends of today.

Tea tree toothpicks