Award Tour Vol. 28: His Practice Continues On

"We put holes in teeth"
"We put holes in teeth"



That was the chant made famous by the Cavity Creeps (it's an old commercial, if you're scratching your head right now it was obviously before your time). Who were the Cavity Creeps? Well... they were a people... er...

eh they were a race of... uh...

well really, they were just a disgruntled collective of humanoid shaped cavities who were surprisingly well armed all things considered (like the Borg but less civil) . If you clicked on the link (and if the link still works)... you saw the hovercraft they were operating. As I'm writing this, the year is 2005, and we still don't have that technology now - that's gotta count for something.

To what end did they use this technology? It was the unyielding uwavering pursuit of the destruction of Toothopolis.

Was their cause just? I don't know, I mean Toothopolis did bear many of the hallmarks of an exclusive community that turned away "outsiders" - not the least of which was the fact that it was a gated community (using "Incisors" as the gate no less). If you were a Cavity, would you feel welcome there?

Anyway, much like the Matrix, we'll probably never know who started the war... by the time we join the story line the war is already underway. One thing we can say is that the Cavity Creeps were dedicated to their cause. Nothing else could explain why they would continue to wage their bitter campaign, when they clearly had no response for the Crest Cannon.

They were soundly defeated everytime, the citizens of Toothopolis rolled it out.

-The Cavities came with Hovercraft, they were blasted out of the sky.
-They came in all terrain vehicles, they were taken out with one round.
-They came on foot in overwhelming numbers, they were blown away.

So then... where am I going with all this? Good question. I don't know.

When I first started writing this, I had a smooth segue planned so that I could go from a Documentary style-recap of the Cavity Creeps Struggle for power, to talking about my recent visit to the Dentist office. Clearly the two are related, but the seemless transition I had planned escapes me now. It was probably something funny too. That's too bad. I guess we'll have to go with the "Poor Man's" transition. Both stories involve teeth - moving on.

I should have known this would not be routine, when I pulled up to the office and it looked more like a building from the set of "Good Times". I sat there in my car for a moment thinking, "any minute now J.J. will bust through one of the doors and scream, Dy-no-mite - then it will all be complete". Since this actually would have been cool, naturally it didn't happen. I waited for awhile but figured I better just go on in . "Maybe it will look modern inside" I thought to myself (and of course, you remember who is telling the story - you know that it won't.)

Stepping through the front door, was like stepping through the Stargate - a completely different world was on the other side. And believe it or not, the actual interior looked even older than the outside... I couldn't tell how much older it was - at least not without the aid of Carbon dating. There weren't any Stalactites hanging from the ceiling or any cave drawings (at least not any that were visible) - but the dark wood paneling (reminiscent of the Brady Bunch) had me seriously wondering if they hadn't just first bought the office equipment, and then constructed the building around it. As I walked in to see the Dentists, the receptionist jokingly said, "I guess you're the last contestant of the day"...

...I laughed to myself, "oh yeah... well what did I win? A trip back into time?"

The dentist comes in, and is friendly enough, but he dispenses with formalities and gets down to business. He picks up his mirror and his pick (or what I like to call the BloodMaker) and begins an odyssey of pain that cannot end soon enough.

He jumps in and hits pay dirt - and I know it. He doesn't have to tell me that he cut me - no - at this point I can taste the blood everywhere. This of course, does not slow him down at all - he continues moving back and forth, scraping my teeth with no discernable pattern, logic, or objective except for pain and blood.

Finally he backs up for a second (pause) he looks to continue his work, and then stops again (pause) he tilts his head and says, "why don't you go ahead and rinse" as he puts a cup on a stand and it fills up with water.

Yeah, why don't I do that? With all this blood in my mouth, it's got to be awful hard for you to tell which part of my gums you HAVEN'T made bleed yet - wouldn't want you cutting a gum that's already bleeding. I swish the water around, and there's so much blood mixed up in it, it tastes like sea water - feeling uncomfortable yet?

I finish with the water, and I can scarely lay back on the seat before he dives back in - and bleeding follows shortly thereafter. I understand that when plaque hardens, you have to scrape hard, but this isn't the last 50 meters of the 400 meter dash... you don't HAVE to dig deep (but he does anyway). Soon blood is all over the place again, and he directs me to rinse, but I struggle to work the water nozzle on his machine.

He shows me, "see you just tap the cup on the stand to get it started. It's weight sensitive, so when you push down on it, once the water reaches a certain level, it will automatically stop. You're an engineer... you should like this."

What I would like is for the next cup of water I put into my mouth, to NOT come out looking like the "Crimson Tide". Your spring activated water-stop neither impresses nor amuses me. I've seen MacGuyver do more with less.

He goes in for a third time, and by now I'm beginning to think this guy is not actually a dentist but in fact Dr. Giggles. He gets the hook of the pick into something around my tooth, and pulls, jerking my whole head. He hooks it again and pulls again - no dice. He hooks it again, and pulls and does not stop - exerting with all his might, his arm quivering like a bow stretched to it's limit - this could go very bad any second now. I could have a tooth cracked, I could have my gums lacerated, there are so many paths to an unhappy ending here - it's actually kind of frightening.

***SIDE NOTE: The object that he was pulling, was actually part of the filling from the root canal, so thank God it wouldn't come loose, and thank God he stopped trying. This would be a completely different blog if he had succeeded.

This time he asks me to rinse with some reddish/violet fluid and I do, and when I spit it out this time, not only does blood come out, but some solid looking objects... objects that I wondered should I actually be spitting out... like skin tissue or flesh... stuff I probably shouldn't be spitting out. In truth I don't know if it was or wasn't - but either way my mind is made up. His work is done here - whether he knows it or not. There will not be a fourth round with the Blood Maker.

At this point the dentists goes to my x-rays (oh yeah, he took X-rays of my teeth) and looks back in my mouth and says, "You didn't have one single cavity anywhere". Who was expecting to hear that? I know I wasn't, not after all the attempted tooth excavation he did. If I were to evaluate my tooth care based on how much scraping the Dentist did, I would have had myself arrested and jailed under the Patriot Act. But I didn't have a single cavity... so maybe the Crest Cannon does actually work.

As I understand it, the dentist shut down his practice about 2 weeks after I visited. I can't be sure but I'm guessing the crank operated flux-capacitor in the back room finally failed and the hastily held together rift in the time-space continuum collapsed - hurtling the facility 30 years back into the past where it belonged. Is it never to be seen again? Oh I don't know, it's possible that his practice continues on in an alternative time-line.

Award Tour Vol. 27: Two Possible Conclusions

A fight in the desert. Sounds like a good idea. Away from civilization, Apocalyptic back drop... young warriors line up for battle. It's like Pay Per View for teens without money. It's a great idea I suppose - (as long as you aren't the one that loses the fight). But hey... someone's got to lose right? {Enter the main character.}

At the beginning… you know he's hopped up on adrenaline… He is also, inexplicably, the crowd favorite - evidenced by how they chant his name fervently during the pre-fight warm up. Chino! Chino! Chino! The other fighter's name isn't even mentioned. It is his rabid fan base (and perhaps stupidity), that could best explain Chino's eagerness to take on a man much larger than himself. With little pomp and circumstance, the two Chino (and that-other-guy) square off.

As the fight ensues Chino bores forward and he is acquitting himself well...

...well, for the first 0:58 seconds anyway. At the 0:59 second mark, fate dealt Chino a cruel hand (odds are it was probably a right also). At the 0:59 second mark, Chino drops his left just for an instant, but the opening is big enough for the that-other-guy to throw a Right Hand to his chin that lets "freedom ring". After his meeting with the Five Finger Taser, Chino is sent immediately on a one-way trip (all expenses paid) to Spaghetti Leg Junction. As you watch the Chicken Leg Dance performed by Chino... you're thinking something to yourself. I know what it is - cause I though it too.

"When Grandfather offered to teach you the ways of Shaolin...

...it was probably a mistake not to take him up on the offer." (Admit it, you were thinking it too).

He might not know it, but the confrontation is effectively over at this point... Chino is as much a spectator to the fight as you are. As you watch the video, you get the sense that he's watching the fight via an Out-of-Body-Experience... probably wondering out loud the same thing as you, "what's keeping this guy up on his feet?"

To his credit, Chino somehow takes his punishment on his feet, and towards the end lands (or maybe I should just say "throws") a series of "honor salvaging" Cotton Candy Rights that merely graze the other fighter. At least Chino can say he went out swinging.

Amazingly as the fight ends, his friends (the ones who cheered him full-throttle into this a$$ whoopin) have to tell Chino that the fight is over, leading to me to two possible conclusions:

a). He has been beaten so badly, he doesn't know that he doesn't actually want anymore.
b). He has returned from his Out-of-Body-Experience and is searching for an explanation as to why he is puffy, swollen, and bleeding.

Chino Tries His Best Here:
http://www.filecabi.net/video/desertfighters.html

Award Tour Vol. 26: Throwing My Headphones

Synopsis:

Fred Marshall does his interpretation of "I Wanna Be Your Man" by Roger Troutman and Zapp. For information purposes we have included an excerpt of the original song here for those who may not be familiar with it (you'll have to go a little way down the page to see the actual music excerpts links) . It is suggested that you review the original first, as you might find yourself unwilling or unable to listen to anything else following Fred’s rendition.

Fred does his thing here:
http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=1483126109004145166&q=fred+marshall+karaoke

Critics Review

I am both chagrined and repulsed by this tone deaf rendition of what must be universally acknowledged as a classic. This is not so much Karaoke as it is a car crash surrounded by music. And like a car crash, it is gruesome, and yet, your morbid fascination will simply not allow you to turn away. It is an interactive horror, in which I actually found myself backing away from my desk, each time the singer (and I use the term loosely) moved in closer to his webcam (a device which, as of today, has outlived it's usefulness). We should not be in the business of enabling the Fred Marshall's of the world to do this to the music industry, to us, and to themselves.

As the song mercifully comes to an end, Fred makes the correct observation that this, was a good song; and I agree. It would seem Fred is not completely out of his mind. The original song is indeed good. It does beg the question however, “does Fred see this as something he would like to change?" Based on his Karaoke, regrettably I am forced to conclude that the answer is yes.

I will assume the knot on the right side of Fred's head represented the exit wound of a bullet that was fired into his skull and resulted in his diminished capacity for good judgment. I likewise assume that this head trauma is what inspired the conniptions that follow his performance (again, I use the term loosely). Accordingly, I do not blame Fred for this musical abomination... no - I blame YOU... America.

We, as a people, cannot allow this wanton destruction of music to go on any further. I trust that those of you, who are still willing to identify yourselves as his friend, will find Fred and stop him (as you should have done previously) before it's too late. He can't help himself... but you can (and you should have).

Throwing my headphones off in disgust,

The Critic

Award Tour Vol. 25: Things...

...I find annoying:

*******When, you go to the IHOP and get food to-go, the server not only is surprised but angry when you return to the restaurant, asking for another plastic bag, to the replace the one you have now which has a puddle of syrup at the bottom.

My Analysis:
Somehow, it does not occur to them, that pouring syrup into a cup without a lid, and then tilting it sideways in the bag had alot to do with it. Should I have assumed that you would do something so stupid? Hey maybe next time you can hide my orange juice in the bag too... I wouldn't expect that either.

*******That I can park my car, and open the door without hitting the car next to me... but the person parked next to me cannot do the same. It's the same distance... but he just can't figure it out - the math is just too hard.

My Analysis:
You know what? Don't even worry about watching what you do with your car door. From now on when I park, I'll just smash whoever's beside me pre-emptively. That way when you fling your door open like you were leading a jail break (and naturally hit my car) - we'll already be even.

*******That people don't bother to wash their hands after using the bathroom.

MY Analysis:
The reason why you can't look me in the eye, is because I was in the bathroom when you did what you did. I heard the struggle... I know of the horror.... it sounded like the Battle for Middle Earth... and I admit it, I was trying to get out of there in a hurry too (for all I knew you were about to explode). But I still washed my hands... and I didn't have the Gastro-Intestinal Civil War that you did. So I guess what I'm wondering is, "how can you face me day to day"? Aren't you ashamed at all?

*******People on highway's and interstates in the passing lane, not passing anyone.

MY Analysis:
The people behind you aren't driving slow because they want to... they're driving there because they have no choice... you won't move out of the way. You'll probably find this hard to believe, but we are not really happy with you driving 0.1 mph faster than the car in the adjacent lane. No really, see Newtonian Physics tell us that at your current pace, maybe after about 10 - 15 miles you will have inched forward far enough to finally pass the car next to you - whereas we're ready for you to pass it now - you see the conflict of interest? If you'd like to go 10 mph below the speed limit, consider driving on the shoulder - you can piddle to your heart's content over there.

*******People on highway's and interstates that don't want you to pass them - for no apparent reason.

MY Analysis:
Oh you know who I'm talking about, you've seen them. They're not like the people I described above. They're worse. The Slow Pokes are just slow drivers (that in an errant moment) drifted over into the fast lane - to live dangerously for awhile. They're not trying to block you, they just are for right now. When they do get enough room to pass the car beside you, they'll put on their blinker dutifully and move out of your way - it might be 10 or 15 miles from now, but they will do it. The people who won't let you pass are just a$$holes. As long as you're behind them, they're only too happy to impede your progress with unprecedented apathy.

Attempt to pass them, and suddenly they're willing to "Drop the Hammer" and hit speeds in excess of 95 mph on rain-slicked curves to keep you from getting ahead of them. And I guess I just want to know why? If you want to be an a$$hole, do it by using the toilet and not flushing it. Do it by, taking 49 items to the Express Lane Checkout. Do it by playing your music as loud as the Tympanic membrane in your ear can withstand at 11:00 at night. But don't do something that could get us both killed... (okay... that could get me killed). Cause here's the thing... if you stop to get gas or anything else, guess what? I'll stop too... and it's going to get very unpleasant for you from there on in.

*******Stores that have 21 cash registers, but only have 2 of them open, apparently unaware that thing stretching from the cash register to the back of the store was in fact, a line.

MY Analysis:
Do you NOT want people to come back? Yes Wal-Mart, I'm talking to you.

*******When the big boned ghetto fabulous sisters go to a movie outing

MY Analysis:
You are sitting on the opposite side of the theatre... should I be really be a part of your conversation from that distance? Do you really have to narrate the movie (at all) and if you do, does it need to be that loud? I understand there are some suspensful parts in the movie. You may initially jump. But do you have to hop up and down like you are trying to break free from a 5 point-harness seat belt? Should I feel my stadium chair being rocked off it's axis, as you clomp your hooves on the ground and howl like banshees in giddy delight?

*******When at the same movie outing, I am forced to partake in an impromptu session of the Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood.

MY Analysis:
My young caucasian gelflings - I realize that Jenny's treachery in turning Chad against Christy with what we can all agree were less than honorable methods, might seem like the most important thing in the world right now. If I shared your perspective and limited experience, I would probably begin, end, and punctuate my diatribe assailing Jenny's character with a never ending series of "Oh my God"s as well. But fortunately, I do not. In my age I have sense enough to know that Jenny will probably grow up to one day to be your boss, Chad is probably gay, and (what do you know), while you're auditioning for a role on "The Young and the Restless" there's a war going on in Iraq. Kindly eat your pop corn, and shut the %$#@ up.

*******That no matter what time I leave, and no matter how short a time I'm gone... someone always takes my parking space.

MY Analysis:
I just don't get it. I get a good parking space... and don't leave it until like 3:00 a.m. or something crazy like that to get something from 7-Eleven and come back minutes later and my space is gone? Help me to understand that. How is it that no matter what time I leave (morning, noon, night), there is always someone there to take my spot? Is there a special attaché assigned to surveil my car? Are they coordinating their attack on two way radios from the tree line, waiting for the moment that I move my car?

-"Shadow 1 to Ops, Shadow 1 to Ops, Subject in on the move. Chamber is empty, I say again, Chamber is Emtpy"

-"Roger that Shadow 1, acquire target and fill void, Over"