Tooth Things

On my old school list of ten things I hate, I didn’t mention the Dentist. I don’t know what I was thinking; I guess it’s just a no brainer. But I hate the dentist; I am a rabid anti-dentite. They’re sick and twisted individuals (as a group of) who are just plain mean. So last week when I started getting a really bad tooth-ache, I was less than thrilled. Never mind the throbbing pain, that’s manageable, but having to deal with the dentist, that’s pretty much the last thing I want to do. I’d rather grow a skullet. See I can say that, but I know Mrs. Hirp would never allow such a thing to happen.

So this morning, I did my best Dead Man Walking as I approached my new dentist, and awaited the verdict. The gavel slams: root canal, two of them. Fuck. Not only is this going to be about as pleasant as, well, a trip to the dentist, it’s going to cost a couple of grand. Let’s see, I could have a kick ass flat screen TV, a new Xbox 360 and a Wii, take the wife purse and shoe shopping and go out for a nice steak. Or I can sit and be miserable. I will now set myself on fire, and then jump into a pool of gasoline.

Next Thursday is my very own D-Day. And just to make it interesting, my old friend, Bum, is in town that night, and we have plans to go out to eat with he and his wife. Nothing makes more sense than to have BBQ after having some dental work done. I figure there’s a better than average chance that I chew off half of my face, because the Novocain will still be working.

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Okay, gas prices have gotten to the point that I think I have to make this request. It isn’t going to do much for us, but it’s at least something. Let’s get rid of that 9/10ths of a cent, and drop the price back from 3.99 and 9/10ths to just $3.99 per gallon. Give us that much. Give me back 13 cents per visit, you can do that much, you greedy fuckwads.