...And the fun just keeps comin'

This morning I had a 7:00am dentist appointment. I guess I like to get all my body work done in one week. Anyway, this was for an exam and cleaning. Here's the thing, Seester and I were not treated very well by the dentist when we were kids. He liked to hit. I haven't been very regular about going. I'm trying to change this and started back last year.

Meet Dr.-Dreamy-Farmer:



This picture doesn't do him justice. He's got the whitest-straightest teeth I've ever seen; a smokin' body and he raises Guide Dogs for the Blind!

Now for the bad part...I've not had my teeth cleaned in probably 15 years. I hate it. It's about the worst thing I can imagine...worse than minkeys, worse than clowns, even worse than getting a filling; yes, even worse than a root canal! Because of the slight lapse in time since my last cleaning, there's quite a bit of what Dr.-Dreamy-Farmer likes to call "barnacles" on my teeth. What am I, a freakin whale? Don't answer that or Fatass will come after you. That said, for not having my teeth cleaned in so long, they're in very good condition so I should keep doing what I'm doing.

So Dr.-Dreamy-Farmer started in on the cleaning...I was trying to be brave but my teeth are so sensitive...at one point, I think I told him he was torturing me. This was while I was flailing in the chair. He said we should take a break, bless his heart. Then he suggested nitrous and some numbing solution on the gums. I was all over that! Note to chart: Kelly will always need nitrous and numbing solution for cleanings.

I also had the exam and X-rays. That didn't go well either. Dennis-Grace, Dr.-Dreamy-Farmer's assistant tried to knock me out with the X-ray machine.

I have not had a good day.

Oh, I saw this on my way to see Dr.-Dreamy-Farmer:



I wonder if it was a child of a baby-boomer who wrote it? Probably, judging from the little heart at the end.

Last night when I got home, I saw Zack-the-neighbor-boy across the street. I asked him to ask his Dad to give me the number of the Landlady for the raging-party-house. He did and I called her. I told Alicia-The-Landlady about the rager. She couldn't believe it! Those are "nice" boys. I disagreed with her. I said "They're not nice boys. They are self-centered little brats." So she said she would call them right away.

She called me back and said that they were very sorry and that things just got out of hand. Of course, I disagreed and said that the little turds let it get out of hand and did nothing to stop it and were part of the whole thing. I suggested that Alicia-The-Landlady call the Solvent-Young-Men's Solvent-Baby-Boomer-Parents. I also let Alicia-The-Landlady know that whenever there is a party at that house, no matter how late at night (or early in the morning) it is, she would be getting a call from me.

I'm still tired...