Dentally Incompetant

Hellow Fellows and Girl Fellows,
I made that journey back to the office of Dr.D. this afternoon. I was lucky. Wendi drew the short straw and had to decrud the left side of my mouth. Before I could warm the dental couch thing, Wendi had hung the gas mask over my face and turned on the juice. Wendi is now my Gas-Girl and I mean that in the most gentlemanly way possible. I think she must have gotten a new tank, because this stuff was working! I didn't care if Uncle Novocaine came in or not, but later I would care! I knew he was coming because she put the gel/creme stuff in my mouth with the three, two-foot long Q-tips. I held them there for seventeen minutes. She came back during intermission to see if everything was still okay? I said "More sweet tea please", but then remembered this was not a restaurant. The waiting fooled me. Besides, I was off to other adventures. Then Dr. D. came in with the Novocaine. The gas was working so well, even he looked cute. Then came the 1/4 inch foot-long needle with the football pump syringe. You ever see a large ship pull into harbor? They pull in real slow, like slow motion, like Slow Bruce-Blue Spruce. Read yesterdays post. When they finally make contact with the huge rubber stoppers, they bounce 2 or 3 times before coming to a stop. That's what this hyperdemeric is like, only there's nothing hyper about it. I think one of those needles came out thru my left cheek and I'm not talking facial. Anyway, the Christmas music was playing, the manger scene was set up and I was just fine.Even if I did have to grip my own flesh a little tighter! I'm having this wonderful time and then it hits me. I could write a screenplay about a comedian who has run dry. When he goes to the dentist and gets this laughing gas, he gets inspired! I'll get Steve Martin to play the part. He's lying there and his cell phone vibrates. He answers it, Herrow? This is the brank? Yeth, I'm weady to move ahead with the roan. Rokay, rill trok wraater. He takes this routine to the nite club and they love it. He does this act for two weeks. but then he needs another act. So he has to go back to the dentist. He pulls a filling loose so he can get an emergency appointment. The gas is doing it's thing and he's writing a routine about an elephant keeper who has a date with a girl who thinks he is a CIA agent. Of course he can't get rid of the odor, so he goes thru these wild and crazy schemes to keep her from getting too close, even though he very much wants her to get too close. Back to me. I'm lying here thinking of silly thoughts and occasionally I have to stifle a belly laugh. Part of me is near hysterical and the other part is in serious pain. Did you ever see The Two Headed Transplant. They transplanted the head of this escaped convict onto the shoulder of this very tall, large mentally handicapped young man. When they woke up, the criminal head didn't miss a beat. Come on, let's get out of here. He proceeded to do bad things. The other head was crying, because he was a good soul. It's kind of like that. I'm telling myself focus on the fun me and ignore the hurting me. It's like trying not to think of a purple possum. The more you try, the harder it is. But I did overcome. Then there was another problem. I was too happy. I was in danger of doing the Elvis sneer. The curled lip. That happens when you try to stifle a laugh. I didn't want Wendy to think I was laughing, or impersonating Elvis. She might just think my lip was itching. Every now and then I would get the three taps on the chin to let me know to close up on Mr. Sippie. I then realized how numb my face was. It was soon over. I went to my car and the Johnny Rivers cd was playing. I started to sing along and realized I sounded pretty darn good.

I washed my hands, in muddy water.
I washed my ha-ands, but they wouldn't come clean.
I tried to do-o, what my daddy taught me, oh yeah,
But I must have washed my hands in a muddy stream!

You see, when one of your cheeks (that's face) is numb, it makes you sound just like a country singer. You can kinda get the idea by pinching as much of one cheek (facial) as you can and then hold that while you sing. The other way would be to get a big plug of "Bull of the Woods" chewing tobacco or "Cold Turkey" or "Devils Chewing Gum" and stick that in your cheek. Only problem is pretty soon you got yourself two mouths, cause that stuff will eat right thru. So you can sing country songs and sip beer at the same time, making every country singers dream come true!

I said warden, when's my time up?
He said son, you know we won't forget.
And if you try to just keep your hands clean, uh-huh
We just might make a good man of you yet!

Hot dog! I just found me two new careers! Also I could be a prize fighter, you know a boxer. When my face is numb, I won't feel a thing. I won't care how hard they hit me. If I can just figure a way to get the gas out there.

Well I couldn't wait, to get my time in.
I broke out, broke out the Nashville Jail.
I just crossed Atlanta Georgia, uh-huh,
And I can hear those bloodhounds on my trail.

Yep I'm thinking about adding a DDS to the end of my name. Dental Dependent Syndrome. Hows that for an idea? If you get a disease or have a bad habit, that gets added to the end of your name. Because they will soon discriminate against smokers or overweight people in matters of qualifying for health insurance. Your premiums could go up. Sam Walker DKR (drinker). Sue Mallard SMKR. Tom Brown HHD. (hot head) Jean Smith LBN (lame brain) I do not know anyone by these names, so if it happens to be your name, I'm not talking about you. So you could say Ralph UpJohn PRND (paranoid)

so long, Merry Christmas! Walt Lewis GGR

I was born, in Macon Georgia,
They kept my daddy, in the Macon Jail
And he said son, If you keep your hands clean, uh-huh,
You won't hear those bloodhounds on your trail.

I washed my hands, in muddy water............