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Marius' Rant of the Day, 12/18/02 |
| So we're in Eugene, driving down the road, and here's this
lavender Oldsmobile, the really big kind that looks totally 50s in a 90s
sort of way, and there's these two old people, like 60s or 70s, sitting
straight-backed, looking straight ahead, and they've got this his-hers
lapdog thing going on, and I'm just staring at them until they turn off
on an onramp and I'm able to close my mouth again. Come the Revolution, we're outlawing lavender Oldsmobiles, and we're DEFINITELY outlawing his-hers lapdogs. On another note, I think I'm gunning for some sort of Most Dental Work Ever award. More fillings, the kind that require pills to dry out your mouth that last for hours and hours and suck a lot - I'm still feeling em, 4 hours later. Nitrous, we note, is your friend. It's like, I'm sitting in the chair, nitrous flowing, radio going, eyes closed, and I feel them thwacking my cheek, and I'm like "Huh? Oh yeah... this is the part where they stab me with needles a lot and it hurts. Cool." And then, yknow, laying there, nitrous flowing, radio going, lalala...ow. That drill REALLY hurts. But if they stab me again with the needle, it all goes away, and we can all zone out to nitrous...you get the idea. I'm getting my mouth ripped up, and not only do I get high, it feels like I've had this great nap when I get done. Wooooooo. But his-hers lapdogs. I mean really. |