Jesus fucking Christ, motherfucker. I just got grounded for getting frustrated in front of my dentist. He was talking to my mom about my wisdom teeth and all that bullshit, and when she was trying to say something to me, she says it like a fucking blender on "whip." Her words are like gibberish and when I'm listening to her I look like I'm on dope because she's going too fast and saying too many things at once and I have no fucking idea what she's trying to say so I'd finally had enough of it and loud (but humorously) say, "WAIT, WHAT ARE YOU ASKING?"
During dinner it's all fine and shit, until she suddenly blurts out, "I'm so disappointed in you." And goes on explaining how dare I talk to my parents like that and how I don't know about my own teeth and that the dentist probably thinks we're both really stupid. Wow, way to take things seriously. It wasn't even a quarrel, folks misunderstand all the time.
So she said my sentence is that I can no longer ask her to take me shopping or go out with any friends. Do I ever? She said I have to stay home and "Practice on being a good person. Fix it." Dude, I stay home anyway. I go out with a friend once in a blue moon, and usually it's for no more than five hours. That's how much of a social life I have. But I never bitched, because there's nothing I could do about my parental restriction policies. Except maybe become a square, but I'm not up for that. The day I become a fucking square is when David Hasselhoff waxes his chest.
Forcing me to stay home? To what? Make me talk less? I know I'm not much of a talker in person, and making me stay home to not have any connection with the real world makes me have even less to say for when I actually do go out. I've even gone days that I'd say more words here than I actually do verbally. That's usually during summer when my last report card for the school year comes in and I'm pretty much fucked for the entire vacation.
The dentist appointment in itself was quite the terrifying experience. This weird nurse that I had never seen before cleaned my teeth with this pin-sharp spinning needle that screeched against my teeth so that I could feel the piercing pain throughout my whole body. The feeling was worse than the sound it made. All the while this medieval instrument of some sort is making saliva splash all over my fucking face - even more humiliation. The cleaning hurt so bad that my hands were wringing air like I was squeezing the life out of a newborn baby deer in each hand. Once I found the armrests, may god have mercy on them because they must be fucking more wrecked than Paris Hilton's cha cha.
Jesus fucking Christ, my eyes were squinting in agony and my head kept tossing out of natural reaction. I pretty much looked like this:
I think if I watched that movie right now I'd be sent straight to the insane asylum. Also known as the Warped Tour.
While I was on the chair, looking straight into the beaming white light that was above my face, images these movies were flashing before my eyes:
Hostel
Reservoir Dogs
Suicide Kings
Guinea Pig
Flower of Flesh and Blood
Audition
This has been the worst dentist visit yet. Moreso than the one when I had to have four teeth removed at the tender age of nine. The dentist that removed those four teeth was vietnamese. When my insurance wouldn't cover her anymore, I had to get a new one, Dr. Cleave. My mom told me that when he had heard about the four teeth being taken out, he said that it was absolutely, completely wrong in doing so. So I am now permanently deprived of four teeth for the rest of my life. We can't speak to or sue the vietnamese dentist because, well, she recently died of cancer.
What a shitty day, man. I was running on only five hours of sleep from achieving a world record of writing a 7-fucking-page research paper about ancient Roman torture in just one night. It was pretty amazing, I have to say. I was really proud of myself at around 1:30 in the morning, and was just about ready to bust out my chops and party like there was no tomorrow - by myself. For some reason when I stay up for about 29 or more hours, I have as much energy as Gilbert Gottfried's vocal chords.
But then I had to go to bed. Once I sleep, and can only sleep for a short, shitty amount of time, that is when Axl Mode comes in. Yeah, today wasn't all that great. I managed to be physically tortured and emotionally wrecked. Not really emotionally wrecked, because fuck emo, man. Stop fucking crying and pick up the goddamn AK47.
Yesterday, on the other hand, was rather splendid. It was Martin Luther King Jr. Day. Everybody in the world is full of joy on Martin Luther King Jr. Day. It's like the spitting image of Jesus is once again celebrated and it is believed that world peace would come out of his holy ass. School was only a half day, so after school I went driving with Eric to run his errands for an hour or so, which was really nice. Then when I got home and as usual, there was nothing on TV, I found a documentary on CNBC that was about Wal-Mart, man.
Christina N. @ 8:13 PM
