I’m seriously dying. Or my teeth are. Or my whole mouth is really. If it weren’t for sweet Lortab and souped up Ibuprofen I would probably not even be able to write this. I would be on the ground in a little/giant puddle of tears wishing I was in the olden days and someone would just put me out of my misery by yanking all my teeth out and then giving me a bunch of wooden ones. I would be so happy at first. Then, probably sad with my poor ass wooden teeth. But then! Someone would paint tiny scenes of Mayfair poles on them and I would once again be happy.
More importantly, pain free.
So. Crippling mouth/teeth pain. What to do?
That’s right. Consult the internet.
Here’s what the internet had to say to me:
See a qualified dentist asap. Later, put your wisdom teeth on a necklace and wear them in public. Women have an odd sense of curiosity about teeth on a necklace…until you tell them what they are.
Oh really? First, the practical advice. See a dentist. Make that a qualified dentist. I guess my back alley dentist/crack dealer is out. Too bad.
Next I’m to put my wisdom teeth on a necklace.
Ok…check. Wait, what sort of a necklace? There’s a lot of choices. I could go with hemp and be hippie chic…only, I hate nature and patchouli and, right, hippies. (I don’t really hate hippies, just hippy shit).
I could go with a gold chain but I don’t have the money.
I think I’ve got one of those silver ball chains around somewhere. I’ll use that.
Then I will impress the ladies! Because everyone knows they have an odd sense of curiosity about teeth on a necklace. They will crowd around me, ignoring that guy with a puppy. They will be like, ‘oh wow, look at that beautiful necklace! I have such an odd sense of curiosity about it!’
Then I’ll be like, “It’s teeth. My teeth. How do you like me now?” as I flash my mayfair pole chompahs.
Then, according to the internet, they will lose all interest and run away.
Which will cause me pain.
Which means I’m right back where I started. Damn.