Dentite Bites
All across this beautiful nation of ours people are getting stoned out of their gills. (Which, thanks to fantastic advances in high jinx pharmacological science they literally believe they have. Gills, I mean.) Some get so high, either by themselves or administered by their prostitutes) that they depart for a higher plane of existence.
Me? I’ll imbibe the occasional mint julep (in honor of Dr. Leonard McCoy) but that’s about as far as it goes. I don’t get high. I get even. And man, I am so even right now. But seriously, though, the best I ever accomplish is a temporary hit to my already questionable judgement. And a nap. Alcohol is always followed by a nap.
Beyond that, the only time I have need for drugs is when I’m in pain. P-A-I-N. Like when a tooth goes supernova. It’s the old arrow through the tooth routine. Ha ha.
But unlike every street rat and Silicon Valley exec, my choices are decidedly limited. I have abscess to anything as long as it literally does nothing (except, maybe, the side effects). What a deal!
So I call the dentist. It’s an “emergency,” I say. No problem! “How does Tuesday next week sound?” How does that sound? How about I feast on your soul with my last working tooth?
They always think I’m after the drugs. Yeah, people on the streets are scarfing pills like they’re Fruit Loops but I’m going to call you, my dentist, to get my fix on.
“Just take some over-the-counter stuff,” he says. As if the words uttered by a dentist actually makes them effective and gives them power. Acetaminophen. Ibuprofen. The words just roll off the tongue. Or they ought to for all the good they’ll do. Are you freaking kidding me? They just announced a study this week which revealed acetaminophen is no more effective for lower back pain than placebos. Which is unfortunate because acetaminophen is pretty much the #1 recommended analgesic for lower back pain. Oops. Our bad. (Which, by the way, you can’t spell analgesic without anal. Coincidence? Methinks not. Someone is too damn clever.)
How about you shove that OTC back in your analgesic, k?
I have a question. When you call the dentist why isn’t his response should be limited to one of two possibilities? 1) Come right in and I’ll work on you now and make it stop. 2) Come right in, I’ll take a quick look, and I’ll be happy to prescribe a serious pain reliever until I can see you sometime next week.
Why the hell don’t they do that?
My theory? It’s punishment. It’s the dental equivalent of dad grabbing the belt and taking me out behind the wood shed. Someone has gots to be learned a lesson. Maybe next time you won’t wait so long until you call? How many times do I have to drill this into you? This hurts you a whole lot more than it hurts me.
Today I saw the dentist and he readily agreed my mouth should be toured by the President in a helicopter after being declared eligible for disaster relief. “See? Aren’t you glad I made you wait?” Then I was finally handed a script for Tylenol-Codeine and admonished, “Be careful while taking these. Don’t try to drive or anything. This is powerful stuff.” Yeah, I didn’t just fall off the turnip truck, lady. I saw that episode of M*A*S*H, too. The one that went on to become a template for modern medical science. “Take these sugar pills and call us in the morning. Be careful! Powerful stuff!”
They say life is pain. But maybe that’s just because everyone except me gets abscess to the good stuff.
Yes, I replaced every instance of “access” with “abscess.” That’s my literary genius at work. I don’t even charge extra. -Ed.
Shoddy Mobby
Poetic.
On Monday the Supreme Court Of The United Status (SCOTUS) rendered a decision in Burwell v. Hobby Lobby Stores, Inc.
What’s a “Burwell,” you ask? As the Secretary of Health and Human Services at the time the decision was rendered*, Sylvia Burwell automatically became a footnote to history. Based on her position, as far as this case is concerned, she’s a proxy for the United States.
*render:
melt down (fat) – process (the carcass of an animal) in order to extract proteins, fats, and other usable parts.
At issue (per the Hobby Lobby website): The federal government mandating that “family businesses provide four specific potentially life-terminating drugs and devices through their employee health plan in conflict with their deeply held religious convictions.” Widely the issue is described as contraception. So what are these four drugs? “[T]wo kinds of emergency contraceptive or ‘morning after’ pills, and two types of intrauterine devices, or IUDs.”
Which way did SCOTUS break? Let’s put it this way. I went to the official Hobby Lobby online store and clicked a menu option labeled “News Center.” I was whisked away from shopping to HobbyLobbyCase.com, a lavishly and gorgeously designed website which proudly proclaimed, “A VICTORY FOR RELIGIOUS LIBERTY.”
I guess that answers the question, “Will they keep it low key?” Obviously, hell no. Shout it from the mountain top Moses-style. Some can just naturally sense the appropriate amount of decorum. Is gloating one of the seven deadly sins?
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March of the Gerbils
Hi! Remember me?
That chittering sound can only mean one thing…
He’s baaaaaaaack!
And now, the top stories from the gerbil desk. (For those new to this blog, please check in at the G.R.I.P.E. Headquarters to pick up your visitor badge.)
First, the case of the missing car keys. The spare key to my wife’s car has been missing for eons. The gerbil, of course, took the blame. The other day I hopped in my car and a knob had fallen off the radio. When I got home I checked under the seat and found that pesky knob. I also found the missing car keys!
This is an odd sensation. The gerbil was falsely accused.
“That’s one for you, Gerbil!” I shouted to no one in particular. Back to you, Tom.
Thanks, Tom. In light of all the negativity in the world today, we try to bring our viewers feel good news when we can. It’s nice to start off the broadcast on the right foot.
Now, on to darker news…
We know where the gerbil lives, but he fiercely prevents us from visiting. We are allowed as near as the end of the driveway – no farther! We originally suspected a commune with a slightly eccentric couple who owns the property. But now we suspect the urge for privacy is drug related. One piece of recent evidence that points in that direction – The gerbil recently updated his Facebook page and prominently featured pictures of a “bud” of marijuana. Rather than completing school and/or getting a job, the gerbil has apparently chosen the path of worshiping a plant, which, at least for now, is still illegal in this country. Good luck with that, gerbil!
Last, but not least, we bring you news from the world of camping. My wife and I recently roughed it in the woods relying only our wits for survival. Well, our wits and our camping gear. My wife was quite alarmed when she dug into the gear and found that some items were missing. All of the steak knives were gone and there was only one fork. The prevailing theory? The gerbil needed some utensils when he moved out, so he did what comes naturally – steal from those who were there for him the most. Classy.
So, while out camping recently, my wife and I had the opportunity to experience extra intimacy and closeness by sharing a single fork for four days. Thanks, gerbil! Fork you very much.
Shouts from the Abyss 
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