Tuesday, September 27, 2005
This Is A No-Judgment Zone
This is going to have to be a short post as I only have a few minutes. Today my excuse is semi-annual dental cleaning and checkup. Yesterday it was the kid being "sick". Tomorrow I've already lined up the illuminated "Check Engine" light on my kick-ass minivan as my excuse for posting quickly and poorly.

The universe is conspiring against you people, my beloved Bucketeers, by not allowing me to focus my full attention on bringing you quality product six times a week as you've come to expect. Right, so maybe "quality" isn't the right word, but I think you understand the point I'm trying to make: I'm very lazy and don't like to be busy. Plus unplanned-for stuff disrupts my schedule which makes me all shaky and disoriented, even more so than I am normally with my delirium tremens and all. Hey, is that an alligator? Oh no. That's my shoe.

I know you're all dying to know, so I'll tell you: my dentist visit went just fine. No cavities, no teeth to be pulled, no fancy bridgework and he says my veneers are holding up just great--which they should, since I paid for the top-of-the-line "Weatherman" models.

No anaesthetic was used of any kind. So no novocaine, no nitrous. That means I never lost consciousness, which means I never had a chance to wake up to find my pants un-buttoned, my naughty bits chapped and sore and the dentist and hygienist sharing furtive looks and a cigarette as I regained consciousness.

Never. Not even once.

My dentist is a nice and decent man, but come on. This is a tried-and-true urban legend. It even made its way into an episode of Seinfeld. Frankly, my dentist's unwillingness to sedate and then violate me is starting to give me a little bit of a complex. Is it just me who's not being violated? What's wrong with me? Does he not find me attractive? Am I just not his type? Or maybe it's my personality that turns him off. Is there some kind of code to the dentist-office small talk that signals, if not the outright OK (it's not really a violation if you consent, right?) then at least a hesitancy to sue should anything untoward happen?

I don't know. It's ruining my self-esteem. But at least my teeth are clean.


One more thing, completely unrelated and very briefly:

In the comments to yesterday's very disturbing post, the lovely and talented Bucketeer Yoli asked in her inimitable bilingually-foreign way:

What is up with men and green skin women? I have no idea, but I've seen men obsessed over women in green skin...what in hell?

My first thought was obviously: man! Foreigners!

My second reaction was to laugh because it sounded so ridiculous. I mean come on, men obsessed with green-skinned girls? It can't be that common. Yoli's obviously hanging out in the wrong wing at her local Fetish Club.

Past She-Hulk (see: yesterday) and your Star Trek Orion Slave girl (famously nailed by greasy ur-man bo-hunk Captain Kirk), how many opportunities are there for guys to come into contact with a green-skinned woman?

Well folks, welcome to the internet. Between the instant access to millions of others worldwide (for every freak-out fetish, there is now an e-mail-based club, such as the International Congress of Nasal Sex Enthusiasts, a group to which I do not belong) and the ready availability of Adobe PhotoShop (which, to my knowledge, no one has ever actually paid for), every sick, disgusting fantasy can be digitally manipulated reality.

To wit:
Image hosted by Photobucket.com

Go here if you don't believe me.

Is she really hotter because she's green? I don't think so personally, but then I've always preferred orange. Though, again, not so much as a skin-tone.

This post on the Narcissus Scale: 7.2



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