April 25, 2006
Pain Merchants, here I come.
I'm leaving in about thirty minutes for my dentist appointment. This is going to be FUN. In addition to the Bad Bad Tooth that will be getting its just desserts today, the troublesome tooth next to it started hurting this morning. Well, of course it did. So one of two things will happen at the dentist's office. Either he'll make another appointment to do the second tooth and stretch this thing out even longer, or he'll sit my ass down and subject me to TWO root canals in one sitting.
Either way, I'm pretty sure you're going to have a better afternoon than I am.
So I'm sitting here having my pre-dentist terrors, which started about half an hour ago, and while I know you, patient reader, are sick of reading about this, it's just about the only thing in my head today. It's funny how something as visceral as dental pain can drown out the other stuff. That's probably for the best.
I have some special powers, in case you never heard. I can identify the composer of a piece of music if I've ever heard that composer before, even if I've never heard that particular piece of music. I can tell if someone is a born-agan Christian the instant I meet them. And I can smell a lie, as surely as if a can of tuna had been opened.
Okay, enough of my cryptic blather. I'm going to the House of Pain now. See you on the other side. Fuck, I hate The Chair.