Category: Wyatt’s Words

Candy Crowley is one of the few people named after their main source of nutrition: Second Debate Liveblog

Yes, I got to a late start. I had to dodge, dip, duck, dive, and dodge through LA traffic to get home to watch this. Apologies for the three pedestrians I killed on the way—but hey, I lowered our healthcare burden!

BO = Barack Obama (how unfortunate)
MR = Mitt Romney
Candy Crowley = Moderatrix

6:17—“Very little of what Gov Romney said is true” aw hell naw it’s ON nao
Good to see someone woke Obama up for this debate. He’s still condescending the hell out of people, but at least he doesn’t look like he’s on Ketamine

6:18—MR: “How much did you cut licensed permits on federal lands and waters?!” this is two seconds away from a fistfight or makeout session. I LOVE IT

Obama turns his back. Dis.re.spect. Where’s Aretha?

6:20—Romney looks relaxed yet poised. A delicate balance and an excellent sign.

6:21—BO: Gas prices were low because the economy was collapsing. Wtf
“This pipeline…that Gov Romney keeps talking about” the condescension is dripping.”

6:23—Candy Crowley is trying to get all up in Mitt and talking over him. This is obscene.
BO: “I’m used to being interrupted.” >__>

6:24—MR: “I want to bring the rates down, I want to simplify the tax code, I want middle income taxpayers to have lower taxes”
“The middle income families in America have been crushed the last four years”
“I am not going to have people at the high end paying less than they’re paying now”
“No middle income taxpayer will pay tax on interest, dividends, and capital gains” interesting plan
“$4,000/yr higher taxes as a result of the spending and borrowing of this administration”
YAY FACTSNFIGURES!

6:27—BO: “I want to give middle class families and folks who are striving to get into the middle class some relief” so why haven’t you yet?!
“I want to continue those tax cuts for middle class families and for small businesses”
“IF this is genuinely a moral obligation for the next generation…we’ve got to make sure the wealthy…do a little bit more.”
“Go back to the tax rates we had when Bill Clinton was President” oh dear
I want to continue = I haven’t done shit, and now I gotta make up for it

6:30—MR: “I’m not looking to cut taxes for wealthy people. I’m looking to cut taxes for middle income people”
“For me, this is about jobs”
“We can do better than this. We don’t have to settle for 43 months with unemployment above 8%”
“3.5 million more women living in poverty than when the President took office”
Facts. And. Figures. Take note, Mr. President.

6:32—Candy Crowley: This is Gov Romney’s plan, this is what he said. Settled?
BO, indolent: “No, it’s not settled!” whines, stomps feet
His voice is reaching Sarah Brightman levels of falsetto right now. Unpresidential.
Big Bird! Planned Parenthood! Scare the moms!
Gov Romney’s plan a “sketchy deal” AWWWSHEEEIT

6:35—Candy Crowley: what if the numbers don’t add up. MR: “Of course they add up.”
“How about 4-5 trillion dollars of deficits over the past four years. THAT doesn’t add up.”
“If the President were re-elected, we’d get to almost 20 million dollars of national debt!”

6:37—Katharine Fenton: dumb question asker of the night. “What will you do to address the gap where women make 72% of what men earn?”
BO: My grandmother hit the glass ceiling…as the VP of a bank. Wtf #2
“Women are increasingly the breadwinners in the family. This is a family issue, this is a middle-class issue.” No Mr. President, this is a dogwhistle issue.

6:39—MR: My cabinet was more diverse
“We’re going to have to have employers in the new economy, the economy I’m putting into play, that will…have to hire women”
“I know what it takes to make an economy work. And what a working economy looks like. I’m going to get women in the workplace with a stronger economy”
Finally! Someone makes the adult argument for equity in the workplace.

6:44—BO: I’m going to sputter out simple Sybian sayings as if they were true and trite talking points!

6:45—I swear the question-asker is an older Linda Tripp
MR: “Since both you and President Bush are Republicans, I fear a return to the policies of those years.” –no, THIS question is the dumbest of the night
“I don’t believe bureaucrats in Washington or employers should tell a woman if they should use contraceptives or not”
“President Bush and I are different people and these are different times.” Solid answer
Five point plan:
1) Energy technology from the last four years making us energy independent
2) Trade with Latin America
3) Get us to a balanced budget. President Bush didn’t do that
4) Get us out of deficits
5) Boost small businesses, getting them “to grow and hire people”.

6:48—BO: “we came in during tough times”, “digging our way out of policies”
“Gov Romney is currently investing in countries—companies…that make surveillance devices for them to spy on their own folks!” wtf#3

6:51—Michael Jones: “Most things I use for everyday living are very expensive.” Good idea, having an African-American ask Obama why the hell people are bankrupt now.
BO: “OBL is dead” what the hell does that have to do with this man’s buying power?!
Good softball question to allow Obama to drone on and on about talking points. Good thing it’s not one of those drones he likes that kills people. If I were Mike Jones I’d be careful on my trip home for daring to question the President.

6:54—MR: “I think you know better. If you elect President Obama, you know what you’re gonna get. We just can’t afford four more years like the last four years”
Excellent explanation of full employment. Difference is NINE million Americans.
Hammer Obama on no immigration plan, no social security plan, no deficit plan.
Listing BO’s campaign promises 2008 and comparing to 2012. Genius.
“The President wants to do well. I understand. But the policies he’s put in place: from Obamacare to Dodd-Frank, etc”
Reagan had 10.8% unemployment and he was able to bring that down. Why can’t BO?
“He’s great as a speaker, describing his plans and a vision. But we have a record to look at.”
“Median incomes down $4,300/family.”

6:58—MR reaching out to Lorraine and asking her name to get it correct. Very polite.
Immigration question. Hoo-boy.
1) “We welcome legal immigrants into this country. You shouldn’t have to hire a lawyer to get into this country legally.” Best immigration answer given in years.
2) We have to stop illegal immigration…”I will not grant amnesty to those who have come here illegally” No magnets, no drivers licenses. Pathway to citizenship for children of immigrants.
3) Obama promised a bill his first year…hasn’t happened

7:01—Obama struggles to get Lorraine’s name right. “Lorena”? Shows he wasn’t paying attention earlier. In his own world.
“We’ve streamlined, reduced the backlog” and increased deportations…
We need to not let in “gangbangers” Well, he just lost the Bangbus vote…
SB 1070 demagoguery. “if my daughter or yours looks to somebody like they’re not a citizen…i don’t want, I don’t want to empower somebody like that.” Wtf#4 of the night.

7:05—MR: “I’m glad you thought I was a standard-bearer four years ago. I was licking my wounds from being beaten by John McCain. I’m glad you thought I was a standard bearer though!”
Univision citation. Obama got slammed in that interview. Good mention.
Obama interrupts Romney speaking, then says “let me finish”. His rudeness is becoming more and more obscene.
Obama: “I don’t look at my pension, it’s not as big as yours.”
Romney: “You have Chinese investments in your pension”
Obama: silence.

7:08—Kerry Ladka with a Libya question and refusing security for the Benghazi embassy. “Who was it that denied enhanced security and why?”
LIBYASMASH
BO: “I know these folks. I often send them into harms way. I know their families.”
Obama’s supposed plan: 1) Beef up security around the region 2) Investigate what happened 3) We are going to fight out who did this and hunt them down.
‘Gov Romney put out a press release, trying to get political points’
“You don’t turn national security into a political issue, especially right when it’s happening.” SOMEONE FIND THAT VIDEO OF SENATOR OBAMA SPEAKING ON IRAQ STAT

7:11—MR: “There was no demonstration involved. There was a terrorist attack. It took a long time for that to be told to the American people.”
“When the Ambasssador to the UN goes on TV and says it was a demonstration, how could you not know?” finally, a Susan Rice citation!

7:14—Candy Crowley: “does the buck stop with your Secretary of State?”
BO: “I’m the President. I’m always responsible.” Doesn’t claim blame. Clever wordplay.
*kathump, kathump* the bus wheels trample Hillary Clinton

7:15: MR—“you said in the Rose Garden it was an act of terror, not a spontaneous demonstration”
Candy Crowley: “he DID call it an act of terror”
http://www.whitehouse.gov/the-press-office/2012/09/12/remarks-president-deaths-us-embassy-staff-libya
Here’s the quote: “No acts of terror will ever shake the resolve of this great nation, alter that character, or eclipse the light of the values that we stand for. “ He referred to 9/11 and then generically said “acts of terror”. Did he directly say Benghazi was an act of terror? Nope. A cop-out and disingenuous from Candy and “get the transcript” Obama.

7:22—MR: turns AK-47 question into Fast and Furious mention. Perfect.

7:26—Offshoring. MR: “Trickle-down government has not worked here, it has not worked anywhere.” “I want to make America the most attractive place for entrepreneurs.”
“On day one, I’ll label China a currency manipulator.”

7:30—BO: “Both Gov Romney and I agree we should lower our corporate tax rate” um, you had 4 years to do that…and did…*crickets*
“We’ve put significant trade pressure on China and that’s why exports have…increased…” wtf#5

7:36—MR: “We don’t have to settle for what we’re going through”. Citing statistics. Feeling the flow. Yes. Where’s Kevin Nealon in a golf shirt when I need him?

7:38—BO cites the 47% comment. “People on social security!” “Veterans!” “Students!” “Soldiers!” “People who are workin hard every day!”
“That’s why I’m asking for another four years” you’re a tough sell, champ.

“If you’re an R, you like what your guy did, if you’re a D, you like what your guy did” –Shep Smith with groundbreaking analysis

Wyatt’s take: let’s face it folks—Romney put Obama in his place. The President was more petulant than usual, and Romney stood his ground with facts and figures to counteract Obama’s Tourette’s talking points.

Like at least 7 other people, I went to see the first part of Atlas Shrugged in theatres.

And despite years of hype that it would be an Angelina Jolie starred/directed/blessed production, the 2011 result was a salmagundi of gripping action, stilted dialogue, painful acting, and a discount Winona Ryder as Dagny Taggart.

It’s hard to listen to a woman talking about the government stealing when you’re pretty sure she’s shoplifted at Saks.

But they deserved another chance.

I read that Part II had an all new cast. As a stickler for continuity, I cringed.

“Caddyshack II”, I shuddered.

And 20 minutes into the movie, I cringed, and I shuddered.

“Oh shit”, I thought. “They just window-dressed the same damn whorehouse”.

The social interactions were sheer autism.

And then, as if by some Randian miracle, things started picking up immediately after Teller’s cameo (Teller, from Penn & Teller).

Magic, I tell you.

The characters were more relaxed. The cinematography flowed naturally instead of shifting at breakneck speed to create fake action. The dialogue switched from pontification to ponderous.

It was as if the first twenty or so minutes were screen tests and the rest was the actual movie.

The film is timely and eviscerates the Occupy movement as well as the current political climate. It’s, in many ways, taken straight from the headlines, a cinéma vérité that’s sure to appeal to Rand-lovers (the I-told-you-sos), Rand-haters (evil bitch!), and the Rand-biguous (didn’t she write those long books?) alike.

The cameos had me fist-pumping. J.P. Manoux as a conductor! The guy who played Biff in Back to the Future as a Chairman of the Board! (in which case, if this is actually the future, that’s some Inception-level shit)

That’s not to say it’s perfect by any means. But once you accept the movie’s inherent flaws: non-blockbuster budget, a script that needed to be reduced from twelve-hundred pages of prose, acceptable-but-strained special effects, and most importantly, don’t take it all so seriously, the film is a hugely-enjoyable experience.

I hate long movies and avoid them in general. I have the attention span of a five-year-old whose Ritalin was switched with sugar pills.

This kept my undivided attention the entire. damn. time.

I laughed, I got nervous, I got engrossed in the story. A story it was, but a story that is so much more true-to-life than the numb original installment.

You needn’t see the first one to see this one. In fact, I recommend you don’t. You will get confused.

You may miss a reference or two in this one (what the fuck is the John Galt ‘line’? IS IT COKE?!) but no matter.

I very much look forward to Part 3.

I jokingly thought to myself as I approached the 405 near the Getty that I was entering the Valley (of the Shadow of Death).

Little did I know how possible that was.

A simple trip to class turned into a waterslide adventure by sheer virtue of being on one side or the other of Sepulveda approaching the Valley.

I had to record this infamous moment while simultaneously keeping a hand on the steering wheel and not turning my adventure into an aquatic bumper cars one.

I think there should be a rule that if your car hydroplanes three times on the way to class and you have to literally slam on the brakes and pray to prevent from hitting garbage cans and Civics floating about, that the test you’re going to should be cancelled.

***

Also, I realized all too late that this was a terrible day to wear moccasins.

After parking in the garage, I charged the door like a bull on bathsalts and somehow, someway, they wound up unscathed.

 

“Some” may see my seething hatred for valets as illogical.

“Some” can sexually experiment with ninja stars for all I care.

But I feel it is my solemn duty (well, not really solemn, I’m writing and I’m loud as fuck) to share my first unpleasant valet story.

Generally, I had sympathy for valets. They work a generally-thankless job for meager tips and have to deal with rude and dickish customers.

Which is fine.

Except that description could fit damn-near-anyone in the service industry. So there’s no reason for them to be singled-out for anything special.

PLUS, they get to drive exceptionally cool cars that few of us have the opportunity to, and depending on the distance of the door to the parking area, with reckless abandon and no supervision.

When was the last time a waiter felt superior to other service jobs because he served plates of expensive steak?

This story begins about a year and a half ago, when I had to make frequent doctor visits due to an unfortunate bout of strep throat. Three rounds of antibiotics later and I (fortunately for you folks) survived, but was left 145lbs and emaciated, just in time for college graduation pictures that my dad still insists on sharing with people despite the fact that I look like a melanin-deficient Aid-for-Africa poster boy.

My doctors’ offices were in a large medical plaza in Century City, with an underground garage. The garage always had plenty of parking, none of which was tandem. I thought it was kind that they offered valet service in case someone needed it (elderly, blind, querulous people) but I and most could manage just fine.

So whenever I pulled up past their booth I would always politely decline, and they would point me towards a spot. We had a good system going.

That was, until, one afternoon. I was in the middle of my roughest bout of antibiotics, and I pulled up as usual to inform them that I could find my own spot. There were at least 3 or 4 available, and nobody was manning the booth.

I pulled forward, when immediately one of the valets (one I hadn’t seen before) ran over and rapped on my window. I politely informed him that I was parking in the spot *pointed towards it* and thanked him.

He proceeded to try to unlock my door and yelled that I needed to give him my keys for him to park it.

It would seem we had reached an impasse.

So I raised my voice and repeated myself. He started gesturing and yelling even more wildly, making a scene in front of everyone.

Since I was already late for an appointment and didn’t seek to waste my life in Socratic dialogue with a valet over a clearly solvable issue, I rolled my window up and proceeded forward to park into my spot.

He followed me and came over to take my keys. I stuffed them into my pocket and told him where he could stuff something else.

And then the best part happened.

Some loudmouth heifer parked next to me in a Corolla grabbed her labial expulsion by the wrist and marched over towards me, saying I parked too close and proceeded to call me a “jackass” who “thought [he] could do whatever [he] wanted”.

I put my sunglasses on and walked inside, ignoring this ghastly wench, pausing to look back to verify that I had left her more than enough room to WD-40 her enormous ass out of her clown car.

She yanked the kid with her and followed me into the elevator, complaining up and down. She tugged at the kid’s arm and forced him to say that he could “bawely get out of the dwoor” because I parked too close.

I felt like vomiting. How could someone manipulate their kid against a certain stranger? I felt sorry for the poor bitch’s husband/hopefully ex-husband/sperm donor.

I continued to ignore her, until we got to the top level, when this Biff-in-a-wig continued her tirade as the doors opened to my floor (she had missed hers just so she could follow me up 18 floors to harass me). I looked down at the poor kid, who was shifting uncomfortably on his feet, signifying that this wasn’t the first time that “mommy” had done this. What a terrifying existence.

“YOU KNOW WHAT? YOU’RE JUST A FUCKING ASSHOLE!” she shouted as the elevator doors opened and she had jiggled her way to a crescendo.

I blacked out.

On pure adrenalin, I turned around and looked right into her beady little eyes as I walked out the door.

“You shouldn’t use language like that in front of your child, you FAT BITCH.”

And as the doors closed, the only glimpse I had was the look of horror on her face.

Had the valet not put up such a goddamn fuss and tried to Gollum my keys away from me, all that never would’ve happened.

And that’s why valets are worse than Hitler.

I’m distrustful of vehicle valets. I find it difficult to ensure any responsibility with someone so eager to abscond with my keys and my car in exchange for a ticket. That sounds like a terrible deal unless the ticket has winning lottery numbers.

I was pulling into one of my favorite local chicken joints, Zankou Chicken, when one of my Armenian brethren was not only directing where I should and shouldn’t park (like I can’t read the damn signs) but was eager to get me to park in a tandem spot so I could give him my keys.

No dice.

There’s a spot right to my left that’s perfectly available, non-handicapped, and labeled for the chicken joint. I politely asked him, “can I park here?” even though I damn well knew I was going to wrench my car in there whether he liked it or not. He ignored me. Twice.

He kept gesturing me towards the tandem spot and then commanding me to park there.

At that point I transitioned from “no” to “hell no” to “go and fuck yourself with something sandpapery, you sweaty fuck”.

I finally bellowed at the top of my lungs, “CAN I PARK HERE, OR NOT?”

He relented. I pulled my car in, parked, and watched him glare as I walked by.

I don’t need to give my keys away to someone when I’m literally eating 8 feet away from them. The last thing I need is his garlic-scented excretions left in my seat as he unceremoniously cranks my two-door into a yellow pole, then points to a “we are not liable” sign.

Valets belong in a very special circle of hell, in-between “thieves” and “redistributionist thieves”. Their purpose to society has long outlived their continued presence, and unless it’s a building with literally zero parking save for a 6×3 area where the door is, they should be made scarce.

O’Hare: way too tired to observe. need water, food, rest

—————-

Man driving cart thru DFW has no horn on cart, says *beep beep*, earns himself a place in my heart

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FYEAHFOXNEWSSTORE

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Dad walks past lady with her child, stumbles slightly as her kid moves towards in his direction in hallway.

Woman: really? assholes. I hate Dallas.

Me: excuse me…what did you just say?

Woman: uhh…that I hate the people in Dallas

Me: I really don’t think you should say words like that in front of your child.

Woman, with attitude: uh, do you have children?

Me: no, but I’m dealing with one right now

Woman: *silent*

—————

Dad: you fell asleep with your mouth open on the last flight and the guy next to you did too but he was snoring…loudly. so everyone thought it was you and I had to explain that it wasn’t

Me: pffft I don’t snore like some fat bastard. I snore elegantly. It’s like a Jaguar purr

**NOTE: The following is the first in a two-part series about my trip to the Windy City. It actually wasn’t that windy, so whoever said that it was is full of crap.**

UNIMAGINABLY EARLY HOUR, MY BEDROOM

Bring: phone, wallet, ID, charging cords

Leave home: pen shaped like hypodermic needle, mini Ak-47-shaped lighter, vitamins that could be mistaken for more questionable pills

A FEW MINUTES LATER, LIVING ROOM

Dad: “are you ready yet? Can I take your suitcase down to the car?”

Me: “yes, I just have to put in my contacts.”

Dad: “in your eyes?”

Me: “yes.”

Dad: “oh my god.”

4:38AM HOLYFUCKINSHITITS SO EARLY, MY DRIVEWAY

It’s 4:38AM and it’s 80 degrees #wtfresno

FRESNO AIR TERMINAL (FAT) <–(yes, really)

They really shouldn’t be playing “1000 Miles” over the speakers here. It’s bad advertising.

If I could walk 1000 miles I’d much rather do that than take a damn airplane.

_________

Aaaaaand now the official dehumanization process begins

_________

So if you’re under 12 or over 75 you don’t have to remove your shoes? They’re already profiling, why can’t they keep an eye out for swarthy, young Muslim men?

—————-

BODYSCANNNNNNN

—————–

Oh wow…the new Buick Verano. I can’t wait until the future when there’s hover cars here on display and I say “wow, I wish the doors had lasers or something”

——————

Dear airport CPK: how does a panini take 8 minutes to make?! Did you overload the George Foreman grill?

—————–

Owwww hot burning panini gotta board plane ow eggs sausage n cheese 🙁

—————–

Considering getting a boarding pass tattooed to my femur

—————–

Aw crap it’s a fat lady pilot

——————

*engage forced air induction spigot*

WHOOOOOOOOOOSH

——————

At LAX: I could swear I saw John Spencer at the terminal. Except that he’s been dead since 2005.

Allegedly.

——————

New game: identify the high maintenance and the bitchy. Will make the rest of the ride easier if I know who will create the most fuss

——————

Open seat? YAY EXTRA SPAYCE

——————

Bloody Mary time!

——————

Fuckin shitty paid wifi.

——————

girl sitting in window seat…what do you mean you have to go to the bathroom? I have a boner and it’s going to be uncomfortable for both of us if I stand up. Sonofabatch

——————

Second bloody mary time!

——————

Peeing in first class bathroom. Stickin it to the man.

Unintentch boner makes a cumback.

——————

Oh god the girl next to me is knitting. KNITTING. What is this, 1873?

——————

Shit. Fasten seatbelt sign. I have to pee.

——————

Me to flight attendant: “can I use the restroom real quick?”

FA: “well, the fasten seatbelt sign is on. so you can…at your own risk.”

Ominous.

——————

Returned from restroom. Risk was worth reward.

A worse risk would’ve been me pissing my shorts.

**END TRANSMISSION**

8PM, leaving the gym.

Windows down, riding that wave of energy, that swoll.

Track 9 on my CD: “Love You Like A Love Song” by Selena Gomez.

There is no need to qualify why I listen to her or this song. It’s very good. That is all.

Girl in Prius pulls up, rolls window down. “Great song dude!” she sarcastically shouts, then sticks her tongue out.

In a classic case of l’esprit d’escalier, I failed to have a decent comeback, so I smiled sheepishly.

Sonofabitch.

But then as I saw her drive away, I noticed an enormous gash on the side of her car. Like Wolverine walked by and straight up tore a chunk of metal off the drivers’ door.

Poor bitch. She just wished she could’ve been in the passenger seat of a non-damaged car singing Selena Gomez alongside me.

It’s too bad for her “Prius driver” is atop my list of turnoffs.

My teeth aren’t yellow.

They’re just not as white as they could be.

I get lazy. I don’t always brush. *audience recoils in horror*

I also drink all the bad stuff: coffee, tea, sparkling beverages, red wine, more red wine, etc

So my teeth have seen some shit (not literally, thank god)

I happened to be walking through the tony little neighborhood of Pacific Palisades and saw a dental group advertising teeth whitening.

I was intrigued. I used to work on Venice Beach and pass the teeth-whitening hut next to the weed dispensary every day, but this seemed much more legit.

Curiosity got the best of me and I walked in.

I could tell this was a legit dentist’s office because someone went to the great struggle of ensuring that there was an intense oceanic theme in the place. Also the kids tables gave it away.

I walked up to the receptionist, a dead ringer for Finding Nemo’s “Darla” in 20 years, who said that they had walk-in availability. And for $299, who could resist a BriteSmile white-as-fuck smile?

Obviously I couldn’t.

The doctor had a weak handshake. Bad sign.

He scolded me for having tartar on my lower teeth. Gee doc, maybe it’s cuz I just told you I haven’t been to the dentist in OVER a YEAR or just ate a STEAK BURRITO for lunch.

He applied the mouth-opener, the tongue-restrictor, the bite-down clamp, the gum-guarders, the lip-coverers, the tooth-gel, and other devices of torture before my mouth felt like it was officially being hygienically raped.

The only soothing aspect was the hot Latina nurse. My confidence was shattered when I realized her only mental image of me was my mouth stretched

Then, a UV wand in the shape of a crescent was placed in front of my vulnerable mouth, snazzy orange shooting glasses were applied to my face, and with an unnerving jet of blue light, I was off to the Pearly Gates.

And for 20 minutes I sat in this odd position, trying to text around the arm of the device while making sure my arm blood loss wasn’t too significant and that I didn’t drop my phone in my mouth.

After the 20 minutes, the limpwristed dentist returned to add more gel and turn the lights back on.

20 minutes later, he did the same.

Before the amazing Technicolor lightshow, I was informed that 5-10% of people will feel a little bit of sensitivity. The dentist mumbled something about “pain pills” but I couldn’t quite understand.

In the last 20 minute session, about halfway through, I felt a shooting pain my lower tooth that quickly subsided. Assuming I had bumped it on something, I returned to less-panicked state and my butt-sweat subsided.

The results were superb. My teeth were stunningly white and clean.

Parking was only validated for 30 minutes. Exactly what sort of dental office does 30 minute procedures that’s located north of Tijuana?

I approached the younger-looking parking guy, ticket in hand.

“That will be $3.00 cash please.”

Cash? CASH? But…all I have is card…

 

Since there was no gate, I was anticipating having to gun it out of there and never return.

Unexpectedly, his face curled into a sly and off-putting grin, as his voice lowered to a near-whisper, emitting “that’s okay…you can just…pay me next time”.

 

 

“Er…thx dude” I mumbled before I gunned it out of there.

My enjoyment of the Sunset Blvd twisties and flagrantly violating the hapless speed-limit-measuring signs was marred by that sharp pain again.

Oh God.

Bottom tooth. OW. Then top tooth. OW. Then a different bottom tooth. OW.

Each one crashed like a tsunami of hurt, then retreated to an unnerving calm, before crashing again.

I limped into my house, defeated as I slinked up towards the bathroom mirror.

My teeth looked hella white. The best they’ve ever looked.

But GODDAMN. The PAIN.

I need PILLS.

The strongest we had was ibuprofen. I shotgunned two with two glasses of water (not only was my mouth punctuated with knifepoint pains but it was also drier than the GobiSaharaAtacama) and proceeded to attempt to get things done.

Within 30 minutes I was curled around a pillow in bed and passed out, weakened by the pain, my health levels decreased from five hearts to none. Not one with the little sliver in it. None.

I awoke an hour later, still dry and, worse, disoriented.

The pain had generally subsided, but the room temp chicken I ate for dinner still set off a minor pain alert.

As of the next day, the jabs were gone, and I’m left with pearly whites.

Was it worth it?

Absolutely.

 

 

R: That totally looks like the dude who was Roseanne’s boss

W: Wait…that was Fred Thompson right? This doesn’t look like Fred Thompson. Hmmm…oh yeah! That’s right! This looks like dude with the glasses and the mustache!

R: erm…yes…the dude with the glasses and mustache looks like…the dude with the glasses and the mustache.

W: Aha! Martin Mull!