So, picture this. It's one of those mornings, you know? The kind where you wake up feeling all warm and cozy, but then you catch a whiff of something... off. Yeah, that's right. It's my own breath, and let me tell you, it's not exactly a bouquet of roses. Au contraire. But here's the thing - instead of just reaching for the toothpaste like I could do, I had this crazy idea. I wanted to experience it. My own morning breath. I mean, why not, right? So, I rolled out of bed with a sly grin, feeling a little adventurous. I grabbed the floss from the bedside table, that smooth, silky thread. Slipped it between my teeth with a deliberate slowness, relishing the sensation of it cleaning out the nooks and crannies. But it wasn't enough. I wanted more. I looked in the mirror, meeting my own eyes, and I knew exactly what I had to do. I reached for that tongue scraper, the cool metal sending a shiver down my spine. With a steady hand, I dragged it across my tongue, feeling every ridge and groove and carry all the dirt out. And let me tell you, it was intense. The taste of my own morning breath, thick and heavy, filling my senses. It was like a secret indulgence, a guilty pleasure I never knew I wanted. I closed my eyes, losing myself in the sensation, the rhythmic scraping echoing softly in the room. When I finally lowered the scraper, my breath was still nauseating though... I think my breath requires a bit more than just my faithful tools. Shot using a canon g7x mark iii. 1st person footage. Mp4.