Somewhere between Bell's Palsy and death
Saturday, July 05, 2008
Figure THIS one out

If you had a dream where

a) you lose three molars in the span of, like, five minutes;
b) you try to go out to dinner with your dad and a friend but y’all don’t end up eating after you tell your dad you’ll skip your final semester of college and work a ton of jobs to pay your half of the dentist bill if he’ll pay the other half;
c) you end up leaving your car to get fixed at a shop in a bad neighborhood;
d) after you somehow manage to snag a late appointment with your dentist, a verbal spar with two old ladies who cracked on your weight in the crowded dentist office results in a topless chick, and then the cops come;
e) your dentist, who’s cranky at having to work so late, says your lifestyle is the reason for your teeth loss and uses the two more molars you lost while waiting as examples (recognizing that he’s had a hard day, you end up asking him if he’d like you to schedule a second appointment to talk about solutions, to which he gratefully accepts);
f) you contemplate calling your parents for a ride home from the office because it’s dark out, but then you run into your downstairs neighbor, who’s got a date with another dentist in the practice, and you end up getting set up with semi-dorky other suitor hitting on her;
g) as the four of you are driving back to the restaurant at which you were going to eat in the first place, a number from the skeevy neighborhood where you left your car comes up on your phone;
h) when you answer it, the guy on the other end won’t identify himself, which freaks the shit out of you, but he ends up telling you your car and others in the area have been vandalized by guys seeking tranny sex; and
i) you end up mackin’ on the semi-dorky guy after he was nice to you, and when he whips out Magnums you ask him how he feels about per10d sex;

what would you suspect was going on?

Despite all the significant dream elements (losing teeth, nekkidness, not finishing school, Dad, etc.) it wasn’t a nightmare at all. But it might be proof that Poppy’s baked beans shouldn’t be eaten before sleepy time.

[EDITED TO ADD: Girlie, you were the friend in the dream.]


Posted by Broad2:16 PM
It is the job of a good person to be honest. To be self-aware. To deliberately explore the fault lines of your character and try desperately to not inflict suffering in this strange, ghost-ridden world of worked and fabricated objects. Sometimes the jobs of writer and good person coincide. But more often they don’t. There are way more writers in the world than there are good people.

100 things
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Typelogic says I'm an INFP.
Check my weekly astrological groove here.

Give it to me, baby.

Pssst ... My birthday's Feb. 3, and I want this, and this, and this ...


The Make-Believe Oral Cancer Foundation (M-BOCF) is now accepting donations on my behalf. Won't you please help those of us who jump to hideous conclusions regarding our oral health and help me get a root canal or two!??:



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This explains that large bit of type at the top.

Tagline by Ben F'in Mollin, talking about those times you wake up still drunk from the night before.

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