Matchmaker make me a tooth!

(Note I'm told my Ount Vickie reads this.... no shit? Don't be shy... seriously, don't think my not being in contact is a lack of caring... I wish you Gram, Lynn and shit even my Dad were closer, and I don't mean geographically)

So I went to the dentist to follow up on why my somehow no-root-having tooth is giving me shit and he prodded and left me alone in the room. For a long time. We know this only leads to trouble.

I soon found myself with a set of model teeth, one in each hand saying.... Hello Mr. Tooth, as the other replied Why... Hello Mr. Tooth. Camera going like mad. Didn't care, warned not to leave me.

My luck, the dentist walked in and startled me... I dropped the blue ones and they instantly burst into mockery dust. He said "broke em you bought em" and I asked if any would be a good fit in my mouth, ya know.... since I now own the fucking thing.

I'd gone for a filing and he root canaled me. I had pointed to the part that hurt.... the VISABLE HOLE in the tooth, which still exists. The HOLE finally abcessed, and now I have to take shit that will no doubt end me in a yeast infection party time. And all because he didn't fucking hear me. I asked myself.... how do you not hear ME? Self had no answer.

He left me again telling me I had to take pills. Some gratuitous pain shit that I'll never touch and some antibiotics that promise I will die soon. He told me 3 pills a day. I said I thought that was a bit too many. He just looked at me. I asked if I could drink he looked some more and said I shouldn't and I told him I planned to. More scribbling in my chart... which yes I snitched the second he left me alone again. I sat for about 45 minutes all by myself and that never bodes well... plus... pills! So I snitched the mirror on a stick.

Look at how he aged me, that is angry dentist look. I appear ancient and ready for the fucking morgue. But fuck if I didn't take that god damned thing. Slipped it into my waistline then got a bit freaked he'd noticed I had to go digging in drawers to find another, which I did, and replaced.

Also while gone I turned my chest bib into a hat and was singing Matchmaker. (Fiddler on the Roof) When they returned I was still in this state of no shoes and singing. sitting indian style in the chair, playing with it's up and down levers, and looking like a caught child. Again, can't leave me without entertainment... I WILL find my own.

So ok fine. Force me. I have finally given in to the tooth pills after 5 days of bottle twirling and scowls. It's in my belly and I am convinced it is meant to kill me. I've heard them all in the bottle, mocking my fear of ingesting them, they think it's a grand big joke.

Why there have to be so many of them too is also baffling. My dentist said to take 3 a day, but the pharmacy told me four. It makes me wonder if my dentist re-thought how entirely nasty my mouth is and changed it up. now I'm GLAD I swiped his shit. I am more positive than ever that dentists truly are vindictive mean fuckers.

All for now.

-DM