A couple of days ago one of my my teeth started to hurt. Bad. Loss of sleep bad. Tuesday night had me pounding down aspirin, Tylenol and fine whiskey to keep me from taking a pair of vise grips to the offending tusk. Being the big brave guy that I am, I hoped and prayed that the nerve would die and keep me from having to go to the dentist since I hate going to dentists.
Today I went to the dentist but not to that sick bastard I used to visit. This dentist is a kinder, gentler type of dentist. Kinda like a hippie, pot smoking dentist that uses a calm voice and even tones to keep me from squeezing his testicles to liquid flesh as he probes my mouth with his instruments of torture.
The upshot of today’s visit is that I’m having 3 teeth pulled on Tuesday at about $300 per unit. Whatever happened to the time where you go in, he looks and makes tsk-tsk noises and just pulls the rotten crap outta your mouth? He gave me the usually lecture about my oral care, which I expected BTW, and then proceeded to tell me about my sleep apnea. Huh? He told me about how bad I snore. Me? Not according to Nina, who should know. And of course you can’t see any medical professional these days without the subject of my weight coming into play, but then I knew that was coming too. I should’ve liquified his balls for that one, just to keep in practice. Got some good drugs now though. I no longer hurt and I will sleep tonight.
I know, you all are in envy of me and my life.