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Effluvia No one writes about his teeth better than Jamie Zawinski:
Brainfarts - Lovely. A precocious teenager - just what the 'net has been crying out for.
Siobhan seems to be having a good time.
The Coworkers The Canadian coworker is actually pretty cool. "I got a girl's number, eh? It was a sweet night oot!"
Two Years Ago |
24 March 2001 The Tooth So the other night Sonya comes in from the balcony and says, "hey, Harold, look at this." She holds her hand out and shows me this little piece of white grit. "What is it?" "It's a piece of my tooth!" she nearly screeched, "this is, like, every bad tooth dream I've ever had come to life!" See, Sonya has suspected for the last few days that a filling had come out of one of her (grown-in, totally untroublesome) wisdom teeth. She was right. And with the filling gone it had left a crumbling, jagged-edged hole that proceeded to flay the inside of her cheek. Now, Sonya has had a lot of dental work done in her time. A lot. Braces, headgear, all that. And for all of her work she had gone to Dr. McGee, who is an excellent dentist back in West Memphis. Even in college Sonya would wait until we were home for Christmas or during the summer or a long weekend to go to the dentist. However, this disintegrating tooth needed immediate attention. I directed Sonya towards Dr. Leggio, who I saw for my cleaning and sealing earlier this year. She went yesterday morning. About eleven I got the call. "He's gonna pull it," Sonya said, "come pick me up." I never mind leaving work, so I went and got the Wife. Boy, was she loopy! All giggling and high on the gas. "You can take the tooth," she slurred as we came in, "and scan it in, and draw a little face on it. It could be a cartoon character." "Yeah, Toothy Tootherton." "Hehehe...oooooh! Don't make me laugh." I put the Wife on the couch and ran to Walkgreen's for supplies: an old fashioned oh-my-head ice bag, gauze and painkillers. I also gave a coworker a ride back and forth to work today; he just moved here from Canada and doesn't have a car yet. I was in Sonya's car and I put the top down on the way home. "Oooh, it's a scorcher today, eh?" he mused. It was funny to listen to raw Canadian, including all the "oots" and "aboots." I'm sure he laughed at my Boss Hogg-isms, though. So it's all good. I went by Popeye's on the way home and got Sonya some mashed potatoes (no gravy) for dinner. She was very grateful. And now, the tooth in question:
I was brushing the tooth earlier, preparing it for its moment of fame, right? Of course I used Sonya's toothbrush, because it's her tooth. Anyway, there was this little sticky stretchy thing on the tooth and I went to pick it off. I got in close to see what it was... And it was Sonya meat. I had to put the tooth down and sit on the edge of the tub for a minute. Flesh attached to a tooth in the palm of your hand is just so not right. Things That Also Happened Last Night I left my car at the dentist's yesterday when I went to get Sonya. So last night I took the dog and walked down to get it - about a mile and a half down Magazine. We were standing at the corner of Jefferson and Magazine, waiting for the light to change. A truck pulled up beside us. There were a bunch of kids in the back of the truck - pre-teen and teen-age boys. They started talking a little shit - not much, and not too loud, because they obviously weren't too brave - and actually barking at Roxy. It is a sure sign of stupidity when a human barks at a person. I ignore 'em. They're just dumb kids, right? So the light turns green and the truck pulls away and a can comes sailing out of the back of the truck and hits my shoe. I flip 'em the double bird and yell "fuck you!" But the kid that threw it already has his fist up flipping me off and is yelling fuck you at me! I mean really. You're a stupid teenage boy - you might throw a can. Sure. It happens. And you shouldn't be at all surprised when the person you threw the can at makes obscene gestures and yells profanity at you. But to do it right back to him? What did I ever do to that kid? I was well within my rights to give him shit; he was wrong to give me any. But he'll be in Angola in a few years, getting cornholed by some 350-pounder from the hills who doesn't like anything but fried chicken and sodomy, and I'll be pretty happy. Knowing what's in store for that kid just makes me happier. Yes, I am petty and vengeful. Oh, yeah. On the drive home I was listening to WTUL and they were playing these really catchy pop-punk type songs. But I never heard the name of the band. So I called the radio station when I got home. The girl was happy to talk to me - I dont' think they get many calls - and she told me the band was A Newfound Glory. They're catchy. I like them! Which leads me to my final thought: I don't know what all the fuss is about Napster these days. I've downloaded songs every night this week, and I keep finding exactly what I want and getting it faster than ever, now that a bunch of buttheads aren't trying to download the top five albums anymore. I'm still happy with Napster. That's what matters, right? |
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