I had an appointment at the dentist yesterday to get a few cavities filled. They asked me if I wanted it numbed. Do I want it numbed? Sir, I want so much Novocain that I can’t feel my entire head. I want to be so numb I can’t feel the soles of my feet. Mr. Dentist, I want military grade hallucinogenics so while you work on my teeth, I will be floating through a sky made of chocolate syrup while half unicorn/half Ritz cracker creatures feed me polyethylene lollipops and Wonder Woman gives me a pedicure with a walrus-sized Dremel tool.
I don’t like the dentist
I didn’t like him when I was five
I wouldn’t like him in a hive
I didn’t like him at ten
I wouldn’t like it if their name was Ben, Jen or Ken
I didn’t like him when I was fifteen
I wouldn’t like him if he was Charlie Sheen
I didn’t like him at twenty
I wouldn’t like him on a levee
I didn’t like him at twenty five
I would not like him on a cattle drive
I didn’t like him when I was thirty
I wouldn’t like him if his name was Gertie
I’m telling you I don’t like going to the dentist
I didn’t like it when I turned thirty five
I wouldn’t like it covered in chives
I hated it when I was forty
I wouldn’t like it even if I could think of a good rhyme for forty
I still didn’t like it at forty five
I won’t like it on Seti Alpha 5 (Nerd Alert: Star Trek reference! Nerd Alert: Star Trek reference!)
Now I’m forty seven
And I simply don’t like going to the %$#^&* dentist!
My apologies to Dr. Seuss and my dentist who’s actually a really nice guy and does a great job on my decrepit teeth.