Arbitrary Rulings 13

Dentist Appointments - I recognize that dentists are a good thing. They take care of our teeth, they keep us from looking like Shane MacGowan, and they only occasionally molest us when we're under anesthesia... they're like superheroes in white coats, only instead of flying around and melting bad guys with their heat vision, they chip tarter off of your teeth and hector little kids about flossing as soon as the Tooth Fairy makes her final appearance. Good souls, dentists, unquestionably... except for one thing: They're totally evil. I mean, have you seen some of those tools they use? The drill thing that's got all those attachments and makes a noise like a pureed cat? What kind of thrill-kill junkie grows up with an ambition to wield one of those things, and to cram it into an innocent person's mouth, no less? Sickos, perverts, and probably Satan-worshipers, every single one of them. They make Jeremy Irons in Dead Ringers look like a bright pink vagina made out of flowers. Fucking twisted tooth-fetish freaks. They horrify and disgust me. Anyway, I have a dentist appointment today. I don't anticipate that it's going to go well.

Eggs - Delicious! Particularly when scrambled or fried or whipped together with a bunch of leftovers and made into an omelet early on a Saturday morning by an attractive girl that's wearing one of your shirts. Eggs "the morning after" are like the gold stars or scratch-n'-sniff stickers that your teacher would put on your math test when you answered all the problems correctly and made sure to show your work. In this scenario, "math test" represents "crazy, filthy sex" and "showing your work" means "foreplay that didn't consist entirely of you taking off your socks." Just so we're clear.

March Madness - I don't care about college basketball. There, I said it. I assume that this makes me less of a man, but there's nothing I can do about it. Here's me, and here's any interest I could possibly have in the world of NCAA hoops (I'm holding my arms really far apart, but you can't see that because this is the internet). It probably has a lot to do with the fact that I only kinda, sorta went to college. Yes, I attended UT for a little while, but still... most of my time there was spent doing nothing whatsoever, and then when I *did* finish up my school, it was at a specialty, film-specific type thing where we barely had teachers, much less any sort of a sports team. So maybe it's that. Oh, and it could also be that this whole bracket system is really hard to understand for we slower types with no education and an attention span that can only be measured with those special MIT clocks that go down the quintillionth of a second.

Yazoo - They're this synthpop duo from England that broke up a long time ago, but are now apparently going back on tour. I like them, but then again I'm also a really big fan of Human League; I'm predisposed to this sort of music, in other words. The singer, Alison Moyet, sounds like the future's next permutation of the word "Diva," but with a throat made of ice and a detachment from the songs that you could build a suspension bridge across. The other member of the band, Vince Clarke, plays the keyboard. Oh, and writes all the songs, too, but whatever, he's not the reason you'd want to get into Yazoo (he looks like a Icelandic art-gallery owner with a drug problem and a closet full of leather pants). The songs that they make are filled with all the bleepy, bloopy, we've-just-discovered-computers sounds that were so popular back in the 80's, but try not to hold that against them... they're a lot of cool, distant fun for nights when you're over the world and just feel like settling in to whatever your definition of isolation happens to be.


When I do these sorts of posts, I usually like to have five different points of discussion. Today, for some reason, I'm kind of blanking on anything else to write about. Maybe it's the building anxiety of my looming dentist appointment, maybe it's because I'm still a little bonkers from the cold medicine and focusing on stuff is kind of like trying to operate a video camera after a six-pack of beer and a few tequila shooters... who knows, my darlings, who knows? Certainly not me. So let's just pretend that I wrote about a fifth thing, that it was hilarious, and that this post makes you want shower me with high-paying magazine jobs and naked pictures of yourself or your attractive loved ones. Pretending is fun!