Dental Damn!

Maybe I'm stereotyping, but I find dentists to be the most condescending of all types of medical professionals.

In my adult life (meaning since I was too old for my mother to make me go to the dentist) I have only been 4 times:

Spring(-ish) 2005

I was at work dominating a candy necklace and one of my teeth broke.  Rather than go to the dentist like a pussy, I accepted my fractured tooth as a new development in my life that I could live with.  This was a mistake.

Over the course of about two months, I would loose tiny bits of the tooth.  Soup would suddenly become crunchy, soft sandwiches would end up with tiny kernels of enamel in them, on and on and on.  It wasn't until one day I noticed that the tooth was almost completely black that I thought I should have it looked at.

Still another month passed before I found my way into a dentists chair.

The dentist took one look at this tooth and chastised me like I was a puppy who shat on his rug.  "This atrocious!  Why did you not come earlier?!"  In my mind I said, "Because I'm not some mark ass trick who can't handle a black tooth!", but in real life I just said, "I dunno."  This dentist nazi tore into me with a lecture about dental health and how dangerous it is to go this long without, blah blah blah blah.  I fell asleep.

The dentist pulled the tooth immediately, charged me $1 million for his services, and scheduled an appointment for the next month to insert a replacement tooth. 

October 2011

You see that date above?  The one that says "October 2011".  That's not a mistake.  I hadn't been back to the dentist since 2005.  Why?  Because I'm not a pussy, that's why!

No, seriously though.  I went back to the dentist because of a woman.  I had just started dating my girlfriend and she said I should go.  Since I am in the business of doing whatever women tell me to do, off I went.

The dentist I went to had a very trendy office with assistants that looked like runners up for America's Next Top Model.  Everyone that worked in this guy's office looked like they were all going out clubbing right after work and none of them would have time to go home and change clothes.

My teeth had gone so long without care that the dentist had to clean them in two separate sessions; meaning I had to schedule two separate appointments.  In each session while he was working I watched Law & Order SVU on a plasma screen TV that was in the room.  I have never been able to watch Law & Order while getting my teeth cleaned and I fear that I never will again.  Upsetting.

After both sessions they asked me if I would like a hot towel.  I don't understand the need for a hot towel after having your teeth worked on, but I'm not going to turn down a free hot towel experience.  My mother raised me better than that.

What was really crazy is when they asked me what flavor I wanted the towel to be.  I had a choice between mango, blueberry, or vanilla.  I chose mango and was both amazed and frightened at how exact the "flavor" of this towel was.  When the assistant left the room I chewed on it a little.  Sadly, the flavor only existed in sent, not in taste.

Each session to clean my teeth cost $1.5 million each.  As I paid the girl at the desk after my second session, I asked how much it would cost to get my cavities filled (I have a few).  She said for each tooth I would have to pay $750,000 dollars.  I died on the inside, as I knew that I may never have that much money in any single account ever in my life; however, to save face, I scheduled an appointment for the following month to get them filled.

I, of course, had no intention of showing up, but I was NOT going to give America's 2nd Top Model a chance to assume that I didn't have enough riches to fill my cavities.  I cancelled the appointment the following week and said I would call back to reschedule, which I never did. 

Hopefully, I don't run into any of them the next time I visit Club Passion for their Thirsty Thursdays event.  Oh, how embarrassing a thought!

April 2013

The more serious my girlfriend and I became the more serious I take her desire for me to get my teeth fixed.  At this point she has moved in with me, so I figured now is the time for me to get my cavities filled.  She found me a dentist and I went in afraid that I would have an experience like in 2005 and 2011, but it was not.  Cleaning my teeth cost $0. 

(Apparently, there is a new trend called "insurance", which covers much, and some times all, of the cost of taking care of your self.  Hopefully, this phenomenon with catch wind.)

As it turns out my neglect has led to yet another tooth needed to be pulled, which would only cost $68 (thanks to this "insurance").  I decided that the day my tooth got pulled would be the perfect day to go to a concert.  This is, perhaps, one of the greatest mistakes of my adult life. 

I literally got my tooth pulled and walked 5 minutes to a venue to see a show.  The pain that hit me after a couple of hours was excruciating.  Also, having to dispose and replace bloody swabs from my mouth every 20 minutes was not sexy at all. 

Yet, at the end of the day, I am on my way to satisfactory dental health.  I just have to GO to the dentist!  Maybe I'll update this blog in the year 2018 with another dental damn update?

Stay tuned!

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Yuki Night (Video Installation)

My Lovely Yuki and I went out to dinner with some friends this past Sunday night.  I wanted to shoot something to experiment with, so I brought my camera along.

Yuki is so wonderful that she never feels awkward or tells me to stop when I whip out my camera and just start shooting everything she does.  She doesn't even trip when she realizes I've shared what I shot with all of you. 

Ain't she the greatest?

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Guest Post from the Ex-Pope

The following blog post is written and submitted by Pope Benedict XVI.  (Translation by the Official Catholic Secretary and Council of Nations)

My Beloveds:

I understand that I have not spoken much about my decision to relieve myself from the Papacy.  There has been much speculation and wonder surrounding recent events and, while the Conclave elects my replacement, I feel the need to explain my actions so that there is no further confusion.

The simple fact of the matter is this:  Being the Pope is a major drag.  I couldn't walk a single step without being followed by the most sorrowful and melancholy gang of elderly drones you could ever set your eyes upon.  Even an act as simple as going to the restroom involved a procession of epic proportions.  Furthermore, it seems like every destination within the walls of the Vatican is at the end of a never ending hallway that precludes even the smallest of ambitions.

I am an old man.  The strapping physique I dawned upon the eyes of chapel nuns that sent them into a spiritual tizzy is no more.  It begs the question, why must I wear so many robes and drapes and cloths and head gear?  I asked why I must wear such a costume and they told me it is how it has always been done.  How could they know?!  The last time I checked The Bible didn't have pictures in it.  I look like a villain from Final Fantasy.  It's embarrassing.

I am sure you have all seen the automobile in which they pedal me about the streets.  Such a contraption should be reserved for the likes of clowns.  CLOWNS, I tell you.  They insist it is for my safety.  I suggested, to no avail, that if they would like me to remain unharmed simply create scenarios where I would attract less attention.  Allow me to wear the clothes of a common man and cut in half the parade of zombies that follows my every move.

Lastly, my closest friends know that I, like most of you, enjoy a good Gregorian Chant with friends every so often; however, every day is a bit much.  Day and night the moans of our predecessors haunts me.  I petitioned that they, at the very least, allowed me to request specific chants of my liking....again to no avail.

At times I wonder what it would have been like to be the leader of a more subdued religion, such as Scientology.  That Tom Cruise seems of a happy sort.  He's always smiling and what not.  I even saw once he danced and jumped on the couch of the Oprah show.  Oh how I wish I could experience such madness in my own heart.

I must leave you now, my beloveds.  They are calling me from outside of my chamber doors.  Undoubtedly for my exit interview.  Perhaps I can put in a good word with the chaps to see if I can keep the staff.  I did enjoy carrying the staff around.

Sincerely yours for always:

Pope Benedict XVI

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