"Teeth"...

...was a pretty decent movie; "vagina dentata" and all that. Here's 5 minutes on it...getcha learn on, yo.



Anyway, I went to the dentist today for the first of my next five, yes five, drillings. Excluding last week for my initial check-up (in which they couldn't even start the cleaning process for fear of waking my screaming nerve endings), I haven't been to a dentist since 1996 when I had an infected molar pulled. Before that? Shit...I couldn't tell you. In addition to the cavity farm I'm currently cultivating, I've got to have an abcessed tooth, which is broken off at the gum line, surgically removed in a couple of weeks. I think the technical term for the condition of my teeth is "fucked up". Luckily, I have absolutely no fear of the dentist; it's basically just a pain in the ass to have to deal with it. I was also encouraged to get rid of my tongue piercing, which has done all sorts of minor damage to my teeth. That was a no-brainer. That little fucker is sitting on the stove in a pot of boiling water as I type, to be relegated to the box of trinkets I keep for occasions such as this. I had my tongue pierced for the second time about 12 years ago (the first was in 1992, I think...got it while I was on a day pass at my first rehab), and have never taken it out, so I do feel some kind of misguided attachment to it. I mean, hell, we've been through a lot together, right? And at one recent point in time, having a barbell through the middle of your tongue was actually somewhat subversive, especially here in Minnesota. But all I have to do is think about every 16 year-old suburban mallcore rat that has one now, and I breathe easier knowing I haven't actually grown up too much and given in to "the man". I guess I don't have to really start worrying until facial tattoos come into vogue.