(Warning: The language is probably out of control today. You have been warned)
The dental sciences seem so medieval to me. You open your mouth, the dentist or sadist dental hygenist (each of whom thoroughly enjoys making you bleed! bleed! bleed! then rinse! rinse! rinse! -- see, I still love you!) puts these crazy looking sharp metal objects in your mouth and pokes and prods until they make you scream in agony. Meanwhile they're running all sorts of crazy-weird experiments on your gums and shit -- and you know that in the end, they're just testing you to try to get you to say "No way. Really. Stop it. This hurts. I want to cry now. I will do it. I swear that I will get up from this horribly uncomfortable chair and I will go in the corner and I will cry. I will. You want to test me?"

Yes, ladies and gents, I went to the denstist today.

Obviously, I'm quite thrilled about the whole experience, too. I hadn't been to a DDS in somewhere around 2 years. If it ain't broke, don't fix it, right?

Yeah, well, maybe not anymore. Tartar, apparently, really enjoys long vacations from the Dentist office. The soothing voice of tartar buildup intices you that "it's okay to not floss! don't worry about it, budDEE," and "You only need to brush once a day, budDEE." For the record, I usually brush twice a day, thank you.

Well, you tartar-looking motherfucker, I'm laying it down right now. I'm going to the Dentist every 6 months. I'll throw down with your putrid ass and we'll see who ends up on top, you yellow little bitch.

In the end, after the poking, prodding, and pillaging of my mouth, I could have -- nay, should have -- gotten a sticker, too. Deep down, I really wanted one. The 12 year old that lives inside my 26 year old body was all "Oh! Oh! Oh! Do you have a glow-in-the-dark sticker?"

By the way... the whole point of the "polishing" at the end of the "cleaning" (hour long torture session) is to leave you with a nice taste in your mouth, and also with nice breath, right? Right. I think so, at least. Maybe there's some medical mumbo jumbo here, but I'm speaking to the people. Let me speak to the people... If they floss your teeth after they use the yummy-ish cherry flavored polish, doesn't that defeat the purpose of having a nice smelling mouth? It's like this: I haven't flossed my teeth in like 8 years. There is some shit that vacations in between all of my teeth -- and friends, let me tell you -- it is some stank ass shit. Serving all this vile filth with eviction notices after cleaning and yummifying all the adjoining properties doesn't really make my day. You know? I've got good and I've got bad. Now they're all inter-mingling. Go figure.

Oh well... I suppose I'll live.

This Thursday, I'll be in Vegas with Lins and the K&K Connection. Ahhh yeah. Sounds like Lins is bringing her laptop -- let's all throw things at her and call her a dweeb! -- so I'll probably be able to update my site from there. Oops. Everyone retrieve the objects they threw at Lindsay and hurl them at me. Now.

Thanks.
Eric