Monday, October 13, 2008

Buzzkill.

Last Thursday, I visited my extremely adorable dentist. I had a tooth that was set on self-destruct, and he had a crown with my name on it.

This guy and I go back a long way--he's saved me from disaster innumerable times, and I, in return, put his two children through college. All in all, I would say ours has been a fairly successful relationship. Of course, it doesn't hurt matters much that he's a nice-looking guy--or at least, he used to be. Now he just looks like a fairly well-preserved old poop.

And like any old poop worth his salt, he really loves stirring things up. (Ta-da! All my mixed metaphors for the week right there in one sentence.) On this day, he waited until he numbed my gums, my jaw, and my tongue, stuffed my mouth with cotton, surgical steel instruments and fingers, pegged out the N2O, and then proceeded to talk up Sarah Palin.

He really, really likes her.

Obviously, I couldn't say a thing. What's more, I found that I didn't really want to. Making this discovery--aside from the new crown on my right rear molar--is the best thing that happened to me all week.

Now I know that if things go wrong for us in November, I won't have to join the great diaspora. All I have to do is get my hands on some nitrous oxide. Lots and lots of it.

image, Shorpy Photo Archive.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Love that laughing gas! I am really piqued that the old well preserved poops go for that other Sarah!

Sarah "the original"

Anonymous said...

Yeh. Who knew they could be bought for a wink? If Hilary had known that it could have been a different race.

LuLu said...

My hair dresser likes her too, and he's a cutie...I told him about what she does to wolves (not saying he's a wolf, but he owns a huskie--close enough), so I hope he'll reconsider. Maybe I'll have to get him to give me some laughing gas the next time he cuts my hair.

LuLu said...

My hair dresser likes her too, and he's a cutie...I told him about what she does to wolves (not saying he's a wolf, but he owns a huskie--close enough), so I hope he'll reconsider. Maybe I'll have to get him to give me some laughing gas the next time he cuts my hair.