*Horrified face* So I have a dentist appointment this afternoon. Kill me. Kill me now.
*stabbing psycho music*
Tell my mother I loved her.
Dalekins… you’ve always been good to me. *Sniffs* You can have my magic eight ball. It’s broken though, so when you shake it, it always says “It doesn’t look good” so just make up your own shite! P.S. You may not get another girlfriend until you have mourned me for at least 25 years. I’ll know.
What happened to those dentists that used to give you laughing gas? When I was a kid our dentist was about 90 years old, he used to give us Laughing gas just to clean our teeth (or to shut us up because we used to start howling “Owwwwwww you’re hurting meeeeeeeeeeee” from the reception area already– could have gone either way).
Anyhoo, he used to put the mask on, walk out and shout “Let me know when you’re stoned!” I used to snarf that stuff like a fat kid on cake!
Evil Dentist: “You stoned yet little girl?”
Me: *snarf snarf deep breaths*
Evil Dentist: “You stoned yet little girl?”
Me: *snarf snarf deep breaths* “Noooooooooo” - even though Bryan Adams (why do they always play him in dentists offices?) had starting sounding like the record was in slowwwwwwwwwwww motionnnnnnnnnnn and I couldn't feel my fingers anymore.
*sigh* Those were the days. Now they’re stingy with the drugs! Now they just poke, minus the lube!
Oooh ooh oooh did I mention that it’s 4 more sleeps until Dalekins and I jet off to beautiful Thailand (just sayinggggggg) to sun our ridiculously snow white bottoms and to run around temples in true touristy fashion – you know – bowing to everyone in sight because you think that’s the done thing, saying things like “Namaste” and thinking you’re shit hot because you speak monkonese. (FYI: They only smile sweetly at you because they think you’re retarded)
*claps hands* Yay for meeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!