Fridays…is there anything they can’t do?
Not that my spirits were down, but I was looking forward to today for a number of reasons, not the least of which was the oral cavity torture expert–I mean, dentist–appointment I had at ten this morning. They can say all they want, the vacuous “how are yous” and the “so what are you up to these days”, but it all comes down to the fact that they’re the ones with the little drills and cavity finders and the patented Jerry Lewis “GLAVEN!”
The second I enter a dentist’s office, I am reminded of that scene in Marathon Man when Dustin Hoffman’s in the chair and Lawrence Olivier starts to perform oral surgery without anesthesia. And when you think about it, the whole idea of letting some stranger peer into your mouth and scope out various construction projects they’d like to try in the next six months is pretty stupid. While we’re at it, we might as well hand them all our cash and our home address for burglary.
Wait a second, come to think of it…
Today, I was having some false enamel from 1996 (which somehow wormed its way inside my mouth through false teachings) removed and replaced with better, 2005-era enamel, which apparently releases a fresh mint flavour into your mouth periodically, can do your taxes, and is able to achieve speeds up to 2.5 gHz with the all-new Periodontal Processor (new from Intel Inside Your Mouth).
As anyone who’s been to the dentist knows, you’re pretty much as helpless as a Passover lamb when you’re in the chair, and anything you do wrong bears with it the wrath of the Dentist, the Man with the Drill, Dr. Demento on Novacaine. So I did what any self-respecting, future-family-wanting man would do in that situation: I covered my crotch as unobtrusively as possible. After all, this guy’s messing with probably your second-most sensitive area; what’s to prevent him from going the full monty and deliverying that stultifyingly peaceful shot of No-Care Juice into your groin.
Eeesh, I better stop thinking about it.
Tomorrow’s the Progeny Festival. I’m excited, and doing my best to hide my buoyant anticipation by letting my nose and upper lip slide down over my cheek and jaw, so I appear apathetic at best. Oh wait, that’s the Novacaine.
And afterward, we will conquer the world. You know, if there’s time, or whatever. I’ll let you know how it goes, of course.