Showing posts with label teeth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label teeth. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

I have yellow teeth, and I'm fine with it

For some reason, lately whenever I open my hotmail inbox, I see not one, not two, but three ads on the same page advertising teeth whitening products. My initial thought was, how in the hell do they know me so well? If you've ever spent enough time around my mouth, and I know you wish you had, ladies, you'd find that, aside from my slightly crooked bottom teeth, and the most intense case of chronic bad breath you've ever seen, I have yellow teeth.

For the sake of preserving what's left of your opinion of me, I'd like to point out that my teeth coloration is not for lack of oral hygiene. I brush an average of twice a day, floss whenever I remember to, and I've never had a cavity in my life. However, ever since I was little, I've loved apple juice. Where most kids loved soda, I drank apple juice nearly every day of my childhood. I still do, in fact, but in somewhat lighter quantities. The trouble is, all that acidic juice leaves an impact on teeth. Aside from mild erosion of enamel, over 20 years of juice has left a light bronzy stain on my teeth, similar to what some daily coffee drinkers get. The result: my teeth are healthy enough, but permanently tainted with a yellow hue.

Now that I've gotten that out, one might pose the question, "Dan, why not try some of these fine whitening products being advertised?" Well, the simple answer is this: I don't give a fuck about having white teeth. What do I need white teeth for? To light up my winning smile? This is me we're talking about. In my entire life, my parents have acquired maybe half a dozen pictures where I actually smiled, and only one where I showed any teeth. Why?

For one, I'm a miserable fuck who'd rather scowl than smile. I've gotten to the point where even if I'm actually happy, I'm more likely to flash an evil-looking smirk than a genuine smile. Of course, I'm usually happy at someone else's expense, so that's usually quite appropriate.

For another thing, that recent picture of me smiling enlightened people to what I already knew: I have a very creepy-looking smile. There's no way around it. I'm a creepy dude, and smiling just makes it worse. I don't know why. I was an adorably cute little kid. My smile was a sparkling example of youthful joy. My parents took me to professional photographers all the time just to capture that vibrant smile in celluloid form.

And then I got older. And God only knows what happened, but now I'm just a hopelessly creepy little goblin. I'm not totally sure why I don't smile more often. Maybe it's because I'm actually a little ashamed of the fact that I'm a letcherous goon with deep-seated resentment for myself and the entire human race. Maybe it's because I have yellow teeth.

Well, call me nuts, but I'm going with the former. I've had yellow teeth a long time, and I've been a depressing creep for just as long. There's no sense in trying to change that about myself now. Even if I do one day become self-actualized enough to be happy with myself, I really don't care enough to have white teeth. Aside from the general vanity of it, my teeth are a reminder to me of the kind of person I am, and the kind of person I no longer want to be. On the off chance that someday I finally blossom into a respectable human being, I don't want to forget where I came from.

I'm not saying I want to carry all those skeletons with me for the rest of my life, but who I am and who I aspire to be are not things I take lightly, and wherever I go in life, I never want to forget what I left behind me. Once those skeletons are out of the closet, they're going in a display case to commemorate the fact that I overcame them. I'm kind of vain like that. Just not vain enough to get my teeth whitened. Maybe I should do like Mitch Hedberg said and just get a tan.

Incidentally, I noticed that when I get a tan, perhaps as a result of all the fruit juice I drink, my skin suddenly smells sweet. Seriously. Come here and smell me.

Okay, I guess that's enough for tonight. Goodnight, readers. Peace and love.

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

Feelin' Way Too Damn Good

You know, my life is usually so devoid of anything interesting, I can rarely think of anything worth writing here. Now, after a brief trip back to Poughkeepsie, I have amassed, in the span of 12 hours, more life mileage than the past four months combined. I can barely hope to keep track of everything that went down last night. So, for your sake and mine, I'll try to take it one step at a time, and hopefully I won't forget anything.

Tuesday, May 13th:

It's Jordan's birthday. I've called him on the phone to let him know I'm coming. I have his street address, but that's about it. Before hitting the road for Poughkeepsie, though, I have a gift in mind to pick up (more on this later). I did some hunting for it the day before, but had no luck.

12:30pm

I met with my therapist. We discussed some of the usual: insomnia, social awkwardness, suicidal thoughts. You know, typical shrink fare. However, we did spend some time discussing the trip I was planning to take that day. I wasn't especially nervous about it, but she gave me some advice and something of a pep talk that seemed to help put me in a good state of mind for the day ahead.

1:00pm

I stopped off at a small shopping center on the way home to look for the gift again. I'm left once again with nothing. I spoke with my mom on the phone, and she suggested FYE in Rotterdam, which would only take me about 15 minutes out of my way. That gave some hope to the gift dilemma. Unfortunately, before I could get there, another problem presented itself.

2:30pm

My car had been idling rough for a little while, and it stalled a couple times, so my dad and I decided to take it to Firestone for a checkup and oil change. As it turns out, the carborator housing was cracked. Fixing it was basically out of the question, but they could put in a replacement one. Only problem is, I have an '89 Accord with an very old type of carborator, and Honda stopped making them a long time ago. At present, there are only 3 of those carborators left in the country. And they're all in California. So, they'll have to special order the product and fly it in to fix the car. In all, the "check up" will run us about $1,500.

(Since then, I've made peace with this harsh reality, but I don't think dad will be the same for quite a while)

4:00pm

I borrowed my dad's car and drove out to Rotterdam for the gift. I was in luck, as FYE had the thing in stock after all.

On my way out, though, I saw something that startled me. While walking through the mall, I saw three women in an argument. Normally I would ignore such a thing, but these women were so shockingly, stereotypically Latina that I was downright scared. Their whole conversation consisted of calling each other bitches and waving their fingers. I couldn't help but think of Nicole Sulivan and Debra Wilson from that sketch on MADTV.

Anyway, after the brief detour through skanktopia, I tossed the gift in the car and got back on the road for Poughkeepsie.

4:30pm

Since my dad's car has a cd player, I was able to bring my own music with me. This was nice because I got to learn something very interesting about myself. I'm usually a pretty careful driver, but when I'm listening to Bullets and Octane, I'm overcome with the urge to drive like a madman in a stolen car with a dead hooker in the trunk and a kilo in the glove box.

6:30pm

With a little help from Mapquest, I arrived at Jordan's front door. He was apparently in the middle of playing Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion. His character in the game is an evil assassin clad entirely in black who tends to kill random innocent people with reckless abandon. If any of you know Jordan, this shouldn't surprise you.

(It was around this time that I gave Jordan his gift, but for the purpose of better storytelling flow, I will divulge the details on this further on)

Also there were Beth, Alex and Kwame, all of whom I sort of knew but not really. To be honest, I'm not entirely sure that guy's name was Alex. Somebody let me know if I'm wrong.

I also briefly met a couple of Jordan's neighbors, but they didn't stick around long. Which is too bad, because God knows watching Jordan play Oblivion is far too exhilarating to miss.

8:15pm

Jordan said he was hungry, so our party of five went to the diner. We talked, ate, talked, and talked a little more. I found out Alex and Beth have both actually read this blog, which of course made me think, "You guys actually read that crap?"

(If you're reading now, hi guys! *waves*)

Kwame left at one point to talk with some friends who were also at the diner, and again right before we left. The guy's apparently pretty popular, and I now know why. It was established in my mind over the course of the night that Kwame is what Napoleon Dynamite would refer to as "pretty much the best guy ever". He's probably the nicest person at Marist. He's downright Ghandi-esque. He's so completely pure of heart, mind and soul that he actually glows a little bit. Which is kind of handy since I often have trouble seeing black people in the dark.

(Feel free to leave angry comments in the box below)

10:00pm

After dropping off Kwame, we headed back to Jordan's. It was at this point that we got to enjoy the gift I'd brought for Jordan. He had been pretty pleased when he first saw it, but his sentiments changed later in the evening.

So, to get right to the point, I got him a dvd: the movie Teeth. For those who haven't heard of it, allow me to relay the plot outline written on the back of the case:

"Dawn (Sundance award winner Jess Weixler) is a pretty but prim high school virgin who unknowingly has a set of mutant teeth between her legs. When a supposedly likeminded boyfriend forces himself upon her, Dawn's vagina dentata start chomping- which is just the beginning of "the most twisted story of female empowerment ever told" (DreadCentral.com). Caught between her emerging sexuality and a host of oversexed young men, including her twisted half-brother, Dawn eventually gives in to her freakish powers in this "morbidly funny, totally out there and courageous piece of horror cinema" (ArrowInTheHead.com)."

Before we continue, I'll give you a second to catch your breath and stop laughing.

Okay. So, while Beth and Kwame may not have appreciated the obvious piece of cinema gold we held in our hands, Alex, Jordan and I certainly did, and we decided to watch the movie together.

Now, I know some people out there still might want to see it, so rather than divulge any potential spoilers, I think I'll just tell you what happened next. About half-way into the 94 minute feature, Alex went into the other room to take a phone call and didn't come back until the end. He probably wishes he didn't come back at all. By the time it was all over, I was ready to curl up in bed and simultaneously laugh and cry myself to sleep, and Jordan was rendered psychologically incapable of ever having sex again for the rest of his life.

So, long story short, I ended up taking the dvd home with me. Jordan said he doesn't want it in his house. I basically ruined sex for him, and since sex is the only thing Jordan has to make life worth living, he was pretty much reduced to a miserable, pathetic shell of a man. I felt kind of guilty about that, but at the same time, strangely satisfied.

12:00am

I decided to say goodnight and headed out to my car. Before going home, though, I still had to find Schunk and try to get back my flash drive from him. I pretty much knew how to get to his apartment from Jordan's. What I didn't know is that the route I was planning to take was in fact a one-way street. In fact, most of the streets running through there were one-ways. So, I found myself on a one-way trip into the deepest bowels of Poughkeepsie. I probably could have stopped for directions, but instead opted to drive around town, operating purely on instinct, and tried to find my way back. The odds were against me, but my impeccable sense of direction payed off in no time.

12:45am

I found my way back to Route 9, and shortly thereafter made it to Schunk's place. I parked on the street, walked up the sidewalk in front of his house, and took out my cell phone.

Now, as interesting as this was for me at the time, it became much more interesting after hearing Schunk's side of it, so I will go ahead and give it to you now, with some paraphrasing:

Schunk had been out at the bar that night, getting hammered and trying to hook up with some girls. As the night wore on, he realized he had nothing to show for his efforts thus far beside a stomach full of alcohol and the increasingly slim chance that he was going to get laid.

Feeling defeated, he decided to go home early. About ten minutes after getting back to his apartment, his cell phone suddenly rang. Naturally, he thought to himself, Hey, this night is turning around. Maybe that's some hot girl. He then saw the caller ID on the phone. Even better, he thought. It's Dannyboy!

So, he picked up the phone and I asked where he was. After the confirmation that he was home, I told him to go look out his window. He did, and sure enough, there I was standing on his sidewalk out front.

"Aw, Dannyboy! Come on inside, you creep!"

This may serve as proof that we were fated to meet up that night. Not only did I find his house with no clue of where I was going, but if I'd gotten there any sooner, or if he hadn't made the sudden decision to go home, I would have missed him. In a way, the forces of the universe that brought us together in the first place in Sheahan Hall may have served to reunite us that night.

So, we spent a couple minutes getting caught up, and I retrieved my flash drive. With my mission accomplished, I was all set to leave, but Schunk talked me into sticking around a little longer.

1:00am

We decided to go to Campus Deli for a midnight snack. While we were there, we ran into Kyle. I was pretty glad I had the chance to see him again, if only because he's the only person at Marist who really approves of my facial hair. He mentioned something about Arias and some other guys hanging out in Upper West (my home-away-from-home last year), but Schunk wasn't interested, so we just went back to his place and finished eating.

1:30am

After saying goodbye to Schunk, I got in my car and got back on the road for home. The drive was pretty uneventful, although the inclusion of Bullets and Octane did result in my keeping the cruise control somewhere around 85mph for most of the trip.

3:10am

I arrived home, entered the house without waking the dogs (a miracle in itself), and went to bed.

So, that's about everything that happened. Through the good and bad, I have to say it was a great day. I had my own little adventure out on the open road, I found out that Schunk basically can't live without me, and I destroyed Jordan's love of sex. Looking back on it, that fantastic gift, which I had envisioned as the best birthday gift ever, didn't quite turn out as I planned. But to tell you the truth, if I could go back and do it all over again, I wouldn't change a thing.