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Chatty Patty
Written on 2002-03-02, at 9:07 p.m.
dizboy's disturbing daily diet...

1 Veal Parmesean Sandwich

1 Side Pasta Salad

1 Side Green Beans

1 Chicken Breast (Fried in Egg, for some reason)

John Live*

Ladies and gentlemen, bad lighting guy.

*Not at all live

"I shouldn't talk about this, but you know you don't really need toothpaste, oh no...it's all about the motion...the motion. But no one else would tell you that, it's all that corporate toothpaste crap."

Says the woman I quickly dubbed "Patty, the Rebellious Dental Hygenist."

"Ughtrernb", I reply...that being the only sound that seems to have the ability to escape my mouth, as it's currently filled with Patty's latex-clad hands.

She proceeds to talk about most everything that a medical professional most likely shouldn't.

She tells me about her wild youth.

She tells me about her third husband.

She tells me about her willingness to "...take a gal for a test drive, if you know what I mean."

And oh, I did.

She tells me this as I sit reclined in the dental chair, undergoing a procedure called "poke John's gums with sharp, pointy metal things."

Patty is incredibly skilled at this specific operation, as she seems to not even have to think about it, as she deftly manuvers razor sharp instuments through my mouth while giving me her views on the state of society as a whole.

Which I, of course, wholeheartedly agree with in my own monosyllabic, grunty way.

I grunt out my wholehearted agreement because again, she has razor sharp instuments in my mouth...

"Don't like my views on politics, eh? Well how do you like having a CLEFT TOUNGUE???"

The actual name of the procedure, if I remember correctly, was called a "deep gouging".

A deep gouging.

It's almost as if they've given up on making the dentist seem friendly and unintimidating.

"Sir, we have you scheduled for a painful bloody scratch and yank on Saturday, this is your reminder call."

The whole point of this visit is to figure out why my gums seem to be afraid of my teeth, and are retreating at an alarming rate.

Apparently the way to determine this is to repeatedly poke me until I bleed.

Once she felt comfortable that she had drawn enough blood, she poured something out of a brown medicine bottle, and told me to rinse with it.

As soon as I took it into my mouth, I couldn't figure out whether or not to swallow it, or spit it out.

"Oh yeah baby, it burns a little, that's from the irritated gums...Sorry, it's just easier to get people to rinse with it if I don't tell 'em that."


After a man with an actual DDS after his name took a look at me, he asked a battery of questions.

"Do you use a whitening toothpaste?"


"Do you smoke?"


"Do you use a hard, or soft bristle toothbrush?"


"Do you floss?"


"Ok then...this isn't gingivitis, just poor gum care."

Stay away from bleaching toothpastes.

Stay away from hard bristles.

Stay away from cigarettes.

And for godssake, stay away from Patty.


Your Host and Emcee...dizboy.

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