I’m a terrible person. That’s a given. I’m selfish and mean and I justify everything I do. I’m sure nobody else does that. I’m sure I’m the only one suffering from strange things like separation anxiety and other fancy crap.
Welcome to blogpisode #13 of WTF Wednesday! How are we all doing today? I’m
suffering from toothache very well, thanks.
No, seriously, I’m ginormously peachy. Apart from the fact that I’ve got three and a half wisdom teeth. And that my lower jaw is preggers with it’s very first, last and only monster tooth. Thank you, sweet baby Jesus.
The time I got my wisdom tooth #1, I couldn’t open my mouth to yawn. Or bite into burgers. Or in general, live. I freaked. Obviously. I thought, “Oh my goodness, I’m getting tetanus!” You know, with the lock-jaw-feeling and everything. I thought I was too late and might have missed my tetanus shots as a kid or something. The DQ that I am, I had to ask Dad about it and he just laughed in my face.
It meant a visit to the dentist. The first one I went to was a annoyingly b*tchy lady whose methods sucked bananas and wore banana pants. I kid you not. And I’m not sorry I bit her when her hand was getting too frisky in my mouth. Incidentally, she was also the woman who did such a bad job on one of my molars, at age 15, that I now have no crown on that mothereffing molar. She probably root-canal-ed all the way to my sinuses. I don’t know.
Back go the present. I’m currently the owner of giant chipmunk cheeks. I feel pretty sexy, I tell you. Something like this.
Major brownie points? I get ice cream and pain meds. And I can be as b*tchy as I want. Me likey that! Maybe I’ll also get one of those $90 new matte Christian Louboutin lipsticks. Just because. (Yes, I also realize I’ve to part with at least one of my amazingly functional kidneys, so I can afford such pricey makeup. Any buyers?)
Who else hates dentists? And how did you deal with wisdom tooth ache?
(Image credits: Google.)