God obviously doesn't think I'm funny, and He doesn't like me blogging about Mary's hoo-hoo either. Just after posting that last entry, He broke my tooth in half. You might think it was the popcorn that broke my tooth, but I know it was, in fact, the Almighty. He was only using the popcorn as a conduit of retaliation.
I don't have many fears, and I certainly can't really relate to people with irrational fears, like, toward spiders, or bees, or Martha Stewart.
I do have what I think is a very reasonable and rational fear of dentists.
My childhood dentist was a sadist, and the only reason he still has (as far as I know) all five digits on his hand is because he was saved by that styrofoam thingie they put on your teeth filled with "bubble gum" (read: vomit) flavoured goo, when your teeth are getting cleaned. As it was, I drew blood from his hand by my lower teeth which didn't sport styrofoam protection.
Going to a dentist in a land where you can't speak or understand the language is so daunting. Whereas an English dentist might normally warn you, "Now I'm going to jab this 5 inch needle into your gums, and then I'm going to drill up into your cranium" here, they just come at you with it while the nurses hold your limbs down.
Alas, though, I'm going to have to go to the dentist in the morning. I'm not kidding, I'm quite terrified. My heart's racing as I even type this.
Holy Mary Mother of God, Pray For Me.
And I'm sorry about mentioning your vagina.
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