Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Non-Emergent Dental-Medical Intervention Placeholder Post
A time comes in every man's life when he lets a woman not his wife stick her latex-gloved fingers in his mouth along with a series of increasingly frightening, choking, piercing, grinding torture devices. Like, say, twice a year. Roughly.
It'd be really weird for me if my hygienist was a dude.
The work to be done (hopefully) will be minor and I shall be back amongst you, my powers at their full capacity, tomorrow morning. Until now, a little preview of what I'm having done:
I understand how they're going to hook me up with the iced-out grill, but how they're going to turn me into a black man younger than myself I don't know. I am going to ask for a double hit of anesthesia, though. Or, as I will soon be calling it, Crunk Gas.
To the window, to the wall...