August 1st, 2007


Teeth & Tits, Dentistry & Pron

Man, it's hotter than a buttcrack in lava over here!

I'm happy that I've got the room that's in permashade, but there ain't no fuckin' fresh air in this bitch. I've kinda cooped myself up lately - except for the last two nights when I went running at the gym - in order to conserve funds as much as possible. Not today, though. Needed groceries.

So, aside from the strawberries and oranges - the only foodstuffs on the list - I bought the usual: mouthwash, porn (a.k.a. Fantasy Football Draft Guide Magazine 2007), dental floss. Why all the dental care products? Because I've been watching too much damned Oz, that's why! There was this prisoner whose gums were bleeding and teeth were rotting because he never brushes and goes to the dentist every five ... never. Anyway, his gums were so bad that he needed to have replacement gum tissue grafted onto his crap gums. The guy had two options: get gums from someone who donated them after they died or get them in a far more painful way. Anyway, he decided to get the Graveyard Gums. This brought about humorous results because the prisoner with the crap gums was also a White Supremacist and the dentist - who was of Middle Eastern descent - made sure to give the prisoner gums from a colored man, thereby making him impure under the tenets of White Supremacy.

Anyway, I saw his mouth bleeding and all that and today I made sure to buy a huge bottle of Listerine and some of that glossy flouride floss. I generally get scared straight teethwise like this a few times a year - where I'm hardcore with the brushing and the flossing - and then for whatever reason my dedication wanes. Like the naughty kid who goes into Spontaneous Acts Of Kindness mode right before Christmas. The dentist is my Santa Claus, and he knows when I've been flossing, he knows when I've got plaque ...

Uhh, OK.

Getting back; it's porn season. Also Known As: Fantasy Football is in the air. This is the first time I've ever bothered to purchase a publication for the art of fantasy football. See, in years past when I first got my friends into playing fantasy, I had absolutely no life, which meant I had plenty of time to keep tabs on who all the great players were, which meant I was a lock to be playing for a championship come season's end. In the subsequent years, I've come to discover that my friends have no lives as well, which leaves them hours on end to spend keeping up on who's hot and who's not. After a run of 6th Place finishes, I'm sick and tired of losing to these losers, so I'm doing my homework. I kept a list of the top position players at each position after the end of last season on an Excell Spreadsheet, now I spent $9 on this magazine. Come draft day, I'm gonna be the most-prepared motherfucker in this league. Lord help them if I finally manage to snag a decent draft spot, as opposed to the 9th yet AGAIN.

I'm staying up until 2 or 3 in the afternoon tomorrow, then sleeping the rest of the day in preparation for my 6am flight to Chicago. Lollapalooza here I come.
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