making it hard
Yearrghghgh...
A few years ago, when I was working at this one job, I had to go to the dentist. I had pain or something, perhaps, I don't remember. But I went there and I had apparently split a tooth. OUch. They looked around a bit and they are all like, DUDE!!! you have like 22 split teeth, what have you been chewing on, rocks??? Bones, I told them, Bones of the defeated.
So they fixed the one that sucked the hardest, or worsest, or something. They said I should be good, but the other ones are gonna need to be fixed.
A few years ago, at this place, I was eating some candy of some sort and suddenly something happened. My tooth fell apart. Big old hunk came off the side. I went to the dentist. They were all like DUDE!!! and were about to say something but I reached out and gave the doc a nice tap in the testes, pop, and he shut his trap... that is how I roll, yo... anyhow, they took out this stone, like a rough piece of gravel, and ground down the split tooth, kept pouring whisky in my eyes so the burning would distract me from the pain in my mouth, that was the theory at least, but I wasn't having any trouble with the pain in my mouth, pain is just pleasure confused (I was deep then) so I was actually ingesting the whisky through my eyeballs... it was sweet...
So the Dentist is all like, you only have 25 more split teeth, we can take care of them when they become a problem...
So here I am, today, apparently perhaps having an issue in my mouth. It is like the opposite of a party, it is like a riot or something. Well, not a riot, more like a unlawful gathering. The gum around the rear top tooth is sore and if I poke it with a paperclip it bleeds. I am hoping that I just got a piece of metal shard up in the gumline and it is festering, or perhaps a hair worked its way up between the tooth and the gums and needs to be dug out... you know, steel from chewing on bumpers and misc steely things, and hair from... stuff...
Or perhaps it is all this hard living doin me in... tooth is ready to come out and is letting me know by being really really sore... it is like a hint or a clue or something... but I am not sure what it is trying to tell me...
Based on my past experiences with Dr.'s I have to assume that there is nothing wrong. That I am a super big puss and what I am experiencing is akin to a tiny little splinter and going to see someone about it would be a HUGE waste of that persons time... and at best I will get a finger up my butt (yes, even from the dentist, what is it with dentists and needing to stick their fingers up your butt? I really can't figure out what that has to do with checking my teeth, thank goodness they give me all that Nitrus before hand... although being on nitrus and having all those flashbulbs going off while they document the rectal probe kinda fucks with my mind) and maybe some Tylenol 3's if I whine enough... Oh, and the dentist just loves to bill me like $500 regardless of what is done and how long it takes... somehow that is always my share, like $533 dollars... I think the $33 is for the privilege of charging me $500. I am suprised they don't tack on a couple extra buck admin fee for tacking on the $33 dollars to the $500.
I think I am gonna go with letting it fester for a few days, hopefully it will come to a point where it will either quietly just go away or explode in a fireball of pain and anguish and I will get to go on a spirit quest... perhaps the blood poisoning will set in and I will start to see blinding lights, and people can say, something about a spiritual reawakening and I will get so pissed off I will come back from the brink just to slap someone silly... Dude, maybe the gangrene will set in and they will have to amputate my head, they will keep my body alive just for the package... people will line up for miles to give me a spongebath... just to take a peek...
Damn, imagine that, I always thought it would be the smoking that did me in, but in the end it was just a bad ice crunching habit... and by ice I mean bones, dirty bones of long dead Vikings, I chew them like chicharones, day old chicharones, extra spicey, my lips all red and burning, their bloodlust fills my soul and my eyes are all full of fire and bloodshot from laying awake all night making this shit up... Heh, that will be funny, everyone will laugh...
Of course, I sometimes imagine I am at the top of a cliff and I hock a loogey (loogie?) over the edge, and it gracefully glides down down down (nice arc on it) to finally splat in a circle, frothy shrapnel launches in a nice pattern around the cirle creating some abstract art in the dust and everyone is/was just standing around waiting for it to happen, and when it does they all clap, and when they are done clapping they just stand and watch as the dust slowly settles back down, then they turn and walk away and I don't imagine I can ever spit like that again...
A few years ago, when I was working at this one job, I had to go to the dentist. I had pain or something, perhaps, I don't remember. But I went there and I had apparently split a tooth. OUch. They looked around a bit and they are all like, DUDE!!! you have like 22 split teeth, what have you been chewing on, rocks??? Bones, I told them, Bones of the defeated.
So they fixed the one that sucked the hardest, or worsest, or something. They said I should be good, but the other ones are gonna need to be fixed.
A few years ago, at this place, I was eating some candy of some sort and suddenly something happened. My tooth fell apart. Big old hunk came off the side. I went to the dentist. They were all like DUDE!!! and were about to say something but I reached out and gave the doc a nice tap in the testes, pop, and he shut his trap... that is how I roll, yo... anyhow, they took out this stone, like a rough piece of gravel, and ground down the split tooth, kept pouring whisky in my eyes so the burning would distract me from the pain in my mouth, that was the theory at least, but I wasn't having any trouble with the pain in my mouth, pain is just pleasure confused (I was deep then) so I was actually ingesting the whisky through my eyeballs... it was sweet...
So the Dentist is all like, you only have 25 more split teeth, we can take care of them when they become a problem...
So here I am, today, apparently perhaps having an issue in my mouth. It is like the opposite of a party, it is like a riot or something. Well, not a riot, more like a unlawful gathering. The gum around the rear top tooth is sore and if I poke it with a paperclip it bleeds. I am hoping that I just got a piece of metal shard up in the gumline and it is festering, or perhaps a hair worked its way up between the tooth and the gums and needs to be dug out... you know, steel from chewing on bumpers and misc steely things, and hair from... stuff...
Or perhaps it is all this hard living doin me in... tooth is ready to come out and is letting me know by being really really sore... it is like a hint or a clue or something... but I am not sure what it is trying to tell me...
Based on my past experiences with Dr.'s I have to assume that there is nothing wrong. That I am a super big puss and what I am experiencing is akin to a tiny little splinter and going to see someone about it would be a HUGE waste of that persons time... and at best I will get a finger up my butt (yes, even from the dentist, what is it with dentists and needing to stick their fingers up your butt? I really can't figure out what that has to do with checking my teeth, thank goodness they give me all that Nitrus before hand... although being on nitrus and having all those flashbulbs going off while they document the rectal probe kinda fucks with my mind) and maybe some Tylenol 3's if I whine enough... Oh, and the dentist just loves to bill me like $500 regardless of what is done and how long it takes... somehow that is always my share, like $533 dollars... I think the $33 is for the privilege of charging me $500. I am suprised they don't tack on a couple extra buck admin fee for tacking on the $33 dollars to the $500.
I think I am gonna go with letting it fester for a few days, hopefully it will come to a point where it will either quietly just go away or explode in a fireball of pain and anguish and I will get to go on a spirit quest... perhaps the blood poisoning will set in and I will start to see blinding lights, and people can say, something about a spiritual reawakening and I will get so pissed off I will come back from the brink just to slap someone silly... Dude, maybe the gangrene will set in and they will have to amputate my head, they will keep my body alive just for the package... people will line up for miles to give me a spongebath... just to take a peek...
Damn, imagine that, I always thought it would be the smoking that did me in, but in the end it was just a bad ice crunching habit... and by ice I mean bones, dirty bones of long dead Vikings, I chew them like chicharones, day old chicharones, extra spicey, my lips all red and burning, their bloodlust fills my soul and my eyes are all full of fire and bloodshot from laying awake all night making this shit up... Heh, that will be funny, everyone will laugh...
Of course, I sometimes imagine I am at the top of a cliff and I hock a loogey (loogie?) over the edge, and it gracefully glides down down down (nice arc on it) to finally splat in a circle, frothy shrapnel launches in a nice pattern around the cirle creating some abstract art in the dust and everyone is/was just standing around waiting for it to happen, and when it does they all clap, and when they are done clapping they just stand and watch as the dust slowly settles back down, then they turn and walk away and I don't imagine I can ever spit like that again...
posted by Catfish at 12:35 PM
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