D-Day is here

I'm going to the dentist today, and I'm not looking forward to it. It's been 4, maybe 5 years since I've been. You'd think someone with as much of an oral fixation as myself would go 4 times a year (My dear sir, sometimes a cigar is just a cigar). I think my dislike of dentists goes back to when I was a kid. Up until I was about 15, everyone in my family went to the same guy, a "family" dentist (which means they went to him out of routine). Now, what I remember most was that he had hairy hands. Very. Shag-carpeting-wookie-fur hairy. Mind you, this was back in the 70s when they didn't wear gloves. Ick.

So I need a major overhaul. As a matter of fact, they're only doing half my teeth today, the rest on the 11th. It's a result of the lack of dental visits, plus all the coffee, red wine, smoking, poppyseed bagels, plus plus plus. Don't get me wrong, I take care of my teeth. I brush at least once a day, I floss about once a week. I use the burny stuff. After all this time I only have one small cavity.

But yet I'm still nervous. They're going to give me novocaine. I'm not adverse to the N, but I would much more prefer a Xanax, tequila shot, and nitrous. Make me not care that you're digging around my mouth with Nazi war doctor tools. And then give me a fucking lollipop. I deserve it.