Sadistic Health Care Practitioners.

I made it to the dentist this morning. Like a manly man I just lie in the chair and take whatever punishment they can unleash. The hygienist used the metal hook thing to scrape off what little plaque built up. There was not much to scrape off. I told her not to use that numbing gel crap - because it tastes awful. And I do not need it. Pick away. Make me bleed. What the heck do I care? Besides, this way I can look like a tough guy in front of the staff - some of whom are hot. The others are either dudes are really NOT hot. I do not care about them. They even have the words "pain tolerant" written on my records.

The reality is that the numbing gel does not work. Its effects are very short lived. So you are better off without it.

Anyway after the cleaning and scraping and polishing and stuff, it was time to measure the gum pockets! The two I had are gone. The medicine powder that was injected worked. But there was a new gum pocket - 5mm deep. That is pretty deep. It was in my upper teeth, and supposedly not there last time. But they gave me another powder injection which should take care of that. No problem.

And then the cleaning was done. So there was only one more thing left to do before I could leave. The actual dentist had to come and poke at my teeth with a hook.

Now keep in mind I am "pain tolerant" and opted out of the numbing gel crap.

So the dude comes in and starts poking around, looking for soft spots in teeth that could be a cavity. On my lower left molars I have some fillings. But they are old. The dentist looks at them, and picks at them. Now I can feel this. It does not feel good. That area is sensitive. So the dentist says "put a watch on teeth number (whatever)". Then he pokes around more.

So I let out a slight very short grunt. As in "hey you fuck head, knock that off before I sneeze on you and infect you with my Christmas Funk". So he says "Oh, is that sensitive"?

Uhhhh...YES. You asshole. It is. I would very much like it if you just jot that down somewhere and STOP POKING IT.

So he keeps picking at the area. What the hell? I already told you that there is some sensitivity there - and here I am Mr. Pain Tolerant and all. So you keep poking at the sensitive area with a sharp stainless steel hook???

Why??? Really - WHY?? Do you get off on that sort of thing?

So apparently, my old fillings have worn down and need to be replaced. This will be done in a few weeks. I will be OK till then.

Now this is depressing. I HATE THE DRILL!!! The drill is horrible. I hate the sound. I hate the heat it creates. I hate smelling the stench of tooth enamel getting ground down. I hate everything about the drill.

"Pain tolerant" or not - I will get the happy gas. I want the happy gas. They can bill me for the happy gas. Whatever - I want the happy gas. I will even bring a balloon with me, so I can fill that up with happy gas for the drive home.

I promise I will only breathe it in at red lights.

After I am sufficiently happy enough, then I guess I will get the Novocaine shot. But even then, the tooth nerve is sometimes difficult to numb. So I better be really happy. Otherwise, I may have to shove my dental records up someones ass so far that another doctor will have to reach down that person's throat to extract them.

AND IN OTHER HAPPIER NEWS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Like the Grinch Who Stole Christmas, my bout of the Christmas Funk had a change of heart. Why try to ruin my holiday? So the mung went away. Sometime last night after I went to sleep, it departed.

So I am no longer the Horseman of the Apocalypse whose job it is to spread pestilence. This is good because I do not really have a horse. Riding a horse is OK for a short time, but I would hate to have to go everywhere on horseback. That would suck. Horses do not come with air conditioning. And if it rains you get wet. Therefore I conclude that being a horseman is overrated.

I had the funk for two days. Not too bad. So I guess my immune system is not so bad after all. Lesser men would have been down for longer. But not me. I did not even take any drugs.

So once again my crazy theories panned out. Let the disease run its course - and you either live or you die. Either way, there is no need for drugs. This time I lived.

Things are slowly returning to normal. The funk is gone. I feel better. I can use my nose to breathe with again. I do not have the constant snot drip going on. I do not need the gross dried up snot encrusted disease ridden towel that should be burned in the backyard for the good of humanity anymore. I was able to enjoy a few beers today.

But not my SPECIAL BEER. The special beer is still in the fridge. I have to be in peak physical condition to open it. I want to be able to take in the full special beer experience. I have to be able to smell and taste properly. I still have a slight residual funkiness going on, so I want that to be gone.

The special beer is called Sampson Lager, a fine Pilsner from the Czech Republic.

And yes, it says "Budweiser Bier". See my fellow Americans - REAL BUDWEISER comes from The Czech Republic - not America. Long before America was a Country, there was Budweiser in the Czech Republic. Anheuser Busch stole the name, and got the copyright for it here in America. And thanks to those assholes - for many years a lot of Czech beer could not be sold here, due to "copyright infringement".

Yea right. Like anyone would mistake a fine imported pilsner for the shit that you find in a can of Budweiser. According to Anheuser Busch, Budweiser has been brewed since 1876. Well guess what? The town of Ceske Budejovice was founded in 1055 - over 800 years before Anheuser Busch and over 700 years before America was an independent nation. And they have been making "beer from Budweis" or "Budweiser Beer" for centuries. So there. Take that.