Just back from a relatively minor dental procedure that included novocain. Dental procedures, no matter what shape or form are simply never fun, but novocain just kicks total ass. The fact that they are digging around your mouth, cutting, pressing, poking, etc and you can just sit there and hum to yourself and not feel a single thing is amazing. I’m so glad I live in the age of novocain. Now, since I knew I would be in the dentist’s chair for about 45 minutes, I figured I’d bring my Discman and tune out during the procedure. So I turned up the tunes, closed my eyes, and rocked. Problem is that now and then the dentist barks instructions at you to turn your head, open or close your mouth, blah blah blah. So I would be sitting there, and I would hear *something* but I just figured it was the dentist talking to his assistant. Then I would hear it even louder and I knew he was talking to me. Fun stuff. But hell, if I’m going to be bleeding, the least he can do is put up with saying shit twice. Right?

Song now playing: Van Halen – “Mean Streets”