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10:31 p.m. - 2001-05-21
Yabba Dabba Doo
I had my wisdom teeth pulled the other day. It was fun. "Getting teeth pulled" sounds like such a peaceful thing. Like pulling somebody's finger. It doesn't really capture the essence of the medieval torture which is tooth extraction. And even "extraction" makes it sound like you're playing that Operation game. Like my teeth are down in a little hole, and you have to use a pair of tweezers to extract them without making my buzzer go off.

The only real way to accurately describe the procedure is that I had pieces of my skull chiseled out from my face.....while I was awake, no less.

Hearing your bones crack and break and be sawed in half is an interesting experience. I recommend it to everybody. Not all the anesthetics in the world can fully numb it, and there's no way to ignore the sounds. To the dentist it's no prob:

"Okay, partner, lay back and relax. Now, you're going to hear some funny crunching sounds which is your teeth cracking, and you might hear a few strange popping sounds which is the muscles in your jaw being ripped away from the bone. If you smell smoke, that's just the odor of your gums being burned by this miniature bonesaw. Nothing to worry about though. It's completely normal."

Normal my ass.

The sounds will haunt me forever.

Mounted on the ceiling above my dentist chair was a television which was playing "The Flintstones: Viva Rock Vegas" with the sound muted. I personally believe they mute the sound on purpose so you're forced to listen to the bonesaw tear through your lower jaw. Sick fucks. The captions were on though, so I could read the plot of the movie. In order to drown out the sounds of my teeth crunching, I sang the Flintstones theme song over and over in my head while I watched the movie. It went a little something like this:

Flintstones, meet the Flintstones, they're a modern stone-age family. From the town of Bedrock, oh my god somebody please kill me.

 

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