Man, I cannot tell you how great it’s been eating things like potato chips and Triscuits. I keep forgetting to eat with the left side of my mouth, so it’s like I’m a chipmunk with this wad of food in one cheek and then it dawns on me that I CAN EAT WITH THE OTHER SIDE HOLY CRAP. Dual-side eating! TWO SIDES. I did not know there were two sides of the mouf. Now I know. I feel like I can eat twice as much as before. TWO! It’s my favorite number. OK, fine, I don’t have a favorite number, but if I did, it’d be two. Glorious two. Now you’re gonna tell me I can walk with oth feet too. Hah, I’ll believe that when I see it, buddy.

My good friend Chris wrecked on his bike over the weekend and broke his collarbone. Now he’s getting surgery to get plates and pins put into his shoulder. He’s gonna set off metal detectors, which is cool only to us because we’re not the ones who have to get strip searched every time we fly. Anyway, I was thinking that I would really like to be half robot. This shoulder of Chris’s is INDESTRUCTIBLE. It is METAL. It probably has some space age alloy crap in it. On a side note: I love the term “space age” because it means absolutely nothing. We’ve been in “the space age” for like 50 years. Space age can mean macrame or plastic or neon vinyl or maybe like that memory foam stuff. Anyway, the point is you can punch or kick Chris in the robotic collarbone and it will not break. NO IT WON’T BREAK. I dare you to try it. Anyway I think I would like some metal parts. I get hurt a lot. This would just be a lot more convenient for me. Convenience is everything.

I went to the dentist YET AGAIN yesterday. This time to get a permanent filling. My final appointment. So I’m sitting in the chair and the dentist comes in and asks, how are you? And I say, pretty good, and sorta you know, do a half smile. Like how good could one possibly be at the dentist finishing up a root canal? OH YEAH I’M FANTASTIC, I HOPE IT HURTS SO BAD IT MAKES MY GUMS BLEED FOR WEEKS AND THIS TIME I WOULD REALLY LIKE TO PAY AN EXTRA $500 JUST BECAUSE I FEEL SO GREAT RIGHT NOW HEY LET’S BE BROS AND GET BEERS. Anyway, I’m not rude, I’m just reserved. I am not what people would “bubbly” and “effervescent” or “chipper”. And he just kind of stares at me and says “How come you’re never happy?”

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

That is SO unbelievably rude, even if he meant it as a joke. We are not “girlfriends” here. He can’t ask me that kind of shit until we’re friends first. And we are not friends. I wanted to take the suction tube and strangle him for being such a toolkit.

Then he got snippy with his dental assistants for not getting the cementy filling stuff prepared in time. And he gets all flustered with them and says, I’ll just do it myself. No. NO. I’ll just do it myself.

You know how your parents never yelled at you in front of guests? Or, if your my mother, not yell at you as bad. Like they are on better behavior? It was awkward. I felt as though my dentist should’ve been on better behavior with me sitting there with toobz in my mouf. But I guess not. Sure, the assistants probably should’ve had everything ready and all that, but like, be nice in front of guests. I dunno, I know I am not “BFFs 4 eva” with this dentist so I’m hypercritical. But come on, dude. PLAY NICE.

Anyway, this makes me realize how much I love my regular dentist, who is awesome and professional and his office is from the future and also he is from Pasadena and his dental assistants make fun of him for saying “awesome” and “fabulous” too much. If you guys want a fierce dentist (who sadly does not do root canals), go to mine. I would marry him if he wasn’t gay. I would love to have his gay dentist babies with perfect teeth.

So, it’s over now. I am going to eat potato chips because they are crunchy. I’m very excited about crunchy foods right now. Crunchayyyyy.

Oh my god, I’m going to eat a gigantic pile of carrots too.

There are pigeons roosting on my fire escape. They are calling to each other, and now there’s a dude pigeon trying to get with the lady pigeon and doing the sexy dance. They are going to do it–ON MY FIRE ESCAPE–and then spawn disgusting mini-flying-rats. This is completely unacceptable. I’ve been batting them away and telling them to “take it somewhere else, you filthy animals” but then they come back to flaunt it in my face. They’re giving me bird flu, I can feel it. BIRD FLU do you understand? BIRD FLU is BULLSHIT.

There are feathers stuck to my screen. Bird poop everywhere. Pigeons smell bad. In New York City, they take baths in the gutter and you’re like dude, wtf is wrong with you, pigeon? I am positive in their nests you can find syringes and toenail clippings and pubes. Oh yes. Anyway, the big problem is that they are very noisy. They coo to call to each other and when they are trying to get all sexy they coo really loudly. Right now the lady pigeon is like not having any of it, but the dude pigeon is very persistent so by the end of the week they are going to be going steady and by the end of next week they will be doing the nasty and getting it on. And in just a few weeks there will be pigeon spawn. Oh my FIRE ESCAPE. If there is a fire, I’m going to get really mad if I slip on some bird poop and break my hip, this is what I’m thinking.

Anyway, I’m not sure what to do. I do not like pigeons. I especially do not like sexy pigeons.

I will not lie to you, friends. It’s been a tough few weeks. Do you want to hear my sad, sad story? No? Ok, then go to another site now. Or read a book. Go blast your quads at the gym. Do whatever you want, I’m giving you an out. It’s like when your boyfriend/girlfriend/spouse says, honey do you want to go to the office Christmas party, you totally don’t have to, it’s OK. And you think, hmm, is this a trap or can I really not go to that party, I hear there will be caroling and dude, I’m Jewish I don’t know any of those songs except for Dreidel Dreidel and you know they will not be singing that, and your boyfriend/girlfriend/spouse says no really, it’s an out. This is what I mean. It’s an out. You can leave now. I’ll even wait for a second while you leave because I’m nice like that.

Still waiting.

OK. Cool. Now that no one is reading this, on to my story.

As I mentioned before, I pulled a muscle in my neck. That sucked.

Then a few days later, I woke up with an ache in my mouth. I thought, whatever, I’ll just eat cereal and it will go away. Cereal solves like 68% of my problems. I eat my cereal, go to work, and by 11:00 in the morning, I’m in curled up in the women’s bathroom wanting to die. Toothache. It hurts so bad it hurts to think. It is like someone has punched me in the mouth and then blackjacked me on the left side of the head. (Blackjacking is when you fill a tube sock with rocks and hit someone with it. It sucks, dude. It happens to me at least once a week.) So, I call my dentist, he says, guess what? Sounds like you need a root canal. I go to a specialist recommended to me by a coworker because my dentist doesn’t roto-rooter.

I go to this dentist. I get xrays. This is what it looks like.

I have bad teeth, yes, I know. The one causing problems is the big white dude. There’s a crown on it. I just got the crown in December/January. It is a new crown.

He says, oh yeah, you’ll need a root canal, but I have some bad news. You’ve used up the deductible on your insurance (on the crown), so you’re not covered. Do you still want to get it done? I mean what am I supposed to say? Oh no, doctor, it’s cool, I’ll just live like this forever and never eat anything ever again except squishy bananas. So he doses me up with Novocaine, and then proceeds to leave me to work on other patients. He’s gone for forty-five minutes. I begin to take pictures of things.

All of this is going in my mouth:

This is what they do: They drill a hole in your tooth. In my case, they are drilling a hole in the $753 crown I just got in Dec/Jan. And then they jam spikes into the hole in order to kill the nerve inside it. Then they pull out the innards. That yellow crap is some kind of ‘medicine’ they shove in the hole to keep it from getting infected. It look like a booger.

So then the dentist comes back and says, oh I better give you more Novocaine, it’s been so long I bet the other stuff is wearing out. The man doesn’t know how to juggle patients, it is obvious. So he sticks me. And then leaves again. Half an hour.

I don’t know what these two machines do:

But, you know what I always say, “It’s not clean until it’s LeClean.” And I also always say, “Oh man if ONLY I had a sensimatic electrosurge, then I wouldn’t be in this mess.”

So he comes back, FINALLY starts to do work, over an hour I’ve been sitting in that chair wanting to die, and as he sticks a spike into my tooth, I feel searing pain into my brainparts and I do that thing where you wave your arms in the air and go MMMF MMMF MMMMF MMMMF and he says, oh you’re not supposed to feel it, I guess the novocaine is wearing off again. So then he gives me another shot. As he is working in my mouth, I feel this tearing pain in my neck, because as I mentioned, I had pulled a muscle in my stupid neck. When he’s done my entire back feels like I’ve been moving pianos to a fifth floor walk-up.

He puts a temporary filling in and says, come back next week and we’ll finish the job.

The entire next week, my toof still hurts. I am on extra special drugs and they aren’t doing much. I also drool at night. A lot. It’s gross. It’s like sleeping in mouth-pee. I do not understand what’s going on. My coworkers all say it’s not supposed to hurt, but, dude, I say, it hurts. It hurts to exist. I go back to the dentist. He says, oh? It hurts? It’s not supposed to…I guess it means you didn’t give any recommendations for me to your friends.

HE ACTUALLY SAYS THAT. When he looks at me, all he sees is a big dollar sign. It’s so outrageously offensive. I mean at least try to HIDE IT. What a ginormous prick and a half. He’s trying to play it off as a joke, but it’s not funny. At all.

He says I guess I didn’t get all the nerve tissue out. We’re gonna have to do more. More root canal. DUDE! More! Root! Canal!

This is where I want to burst into tears, but I’m so angry I want to stab him with that hook scraper thing. You know what I’m talking about. The Hook. Rip his guts out of his mouth. From what I understand you can see all that stuff on the xray, so he could’ve seen that he hadn’t gotten it all out, if he had just taken some more xrays.

So. He goes back in there, and digs some more canal. It is like Venice up in my grill.

The whole thing will cost me about $800.

So basically I paid this guy $800 to screw me in the mouth and the whole thing took HOURS to complete, even though it should’ve taken an hour. Seriously I clocked in two appointments that were almost three hours each.

This is on top of the $2500 computer I just bought.

That is my story.

Oh, and I have to go back next week to get it filled.

1. I pulled a muscle in my neck. Or maybe something in my shoulder that’s affecting my neck. It happened while I was lifting a car off a panda. Damn those pandas, always playing in traffic. I feel like an owl where you have to turn your whole face and body to look at something. Except owls are much cooler and one of the few types of bird I respect because they are so bad ass. Anyway it hurts. Waaahh someone call the wahmbulance. I need cheese with my whine, etc. I would take a hot bath but my bathtub is like really small. Only my legs would be taking my bath. Which wouldn’t help my neck.

1a. It’s always weird to see movies where people are lounging in a sudsy bath and then they get up and just towel off the soap. Like, shouldn’t you rinse off first? I had this long discussion the other day about how some Europeans don’t rinse off the soap off their plates either. Just soap it and then put it in the rack. My friend’s Danish roommate did that. Oh you wily Danes!

1b. You know Giant Pandas get a lot of credit, but what about non-giant pandas? Like regular pandas. They are very excellent animals.

2. Allergies or a cold? Hard to say, but I have one of them. Or I have both. Probably both. There are many people I can blame for this cold. For example, the people of Luxembourg.

2a. Could also be people of Paraguay.

3. 21st Century Plowshare If you live in NYC, why not plant some crap all over Bed-Stuy? April 11, from 11 to 3pm. I’m doing it even though I hate gardening and plants and trees and nature in general. I hear if you sign up James Franco will make out with you. Truth.

My computer died this morning. Like truly died. Goodbye, old friend. *sob* She was good to me. Kind of. Not great. Actually she sucked. OMG I hated that bitch. Screw her. I’m glad she’s dead. The G in G4 stands for OMFG you are such a gooch. One minute I’m IMing Mika, the next minute, my computer shuts down and I get the gray screen and it won’t load anything. It won’t go into safe mode, it won’t go into target disk mode, it wont go into any mode, except for the mode where it tells you to go F yourself.

So I went to the Apple Store.

I REALLY REALLY hate the Apple Store. Honestly. It’s so horrible. Everyone is so “that guy”. Like kind of condescending. I know exactly what I want and then they are trying to upgrade me or get Mobile Me and all that stuff and I’m like dudes. Seriously. Please, just…get it for me from the storeroom and you never ever have to see me again, ever. Until the next time it breaks and then I will be back in tears. Again. Always in tears. I rather buy stuff online, but you know how it is. Your computer breaks and then you need to deal with the situación muy pronto.

So now I have a new Macbook Pro and it is bittersweet. It is a hot jam. SUCH a hot jam. I will be picking up all the single ladies with this thing. Look, I’m running Photoshop and Flash! Holy crap! I can, like, swap windows n stuff. But like, dude, it’s so expensive. $2500!!!!!! WITH the student discount! So now I’m eating beans out of a can for the next three months. Beans. Out of a CAN, dudes. Or maybe some of this.

Or maybe, if I’m feeling fancy some of this.

Funny how both are products of Brazil. They must all have Macbook Pros down there too.

Oh I could do this, this one’s really cheap.

And if I’m feeling “wicked” cheap.

Yes, these are real items. I went grocery shopping last week at kind of a sketchy supermarket that only has roasted chickens and cereal. Sometimes you see things and you really have to take pictures of them. Now I must return to the store to get cans of beans. Maybe some toast. MAYBE. I do not want to blow my budget on toast. Beloved toast.