Saturday, April 10, 2010
Morning Musings
This morning I woke up to a little film called Ghosts of Girlfriends Past on HBO. Now this is the type of movie that I think people near universally could tell from the trailer was going to be roughly the worst movie ever made, and I include in that group Nazi propaganda films and the After School Special on angel dust staring Helen Hunt. But man, did we overestimate it. I don't think there is a five minute segment anywhere in there that is even watchable. I know this because I kept changing the channel every five minutes and then trying to go back, in the name of science of course. Everyone in it looks like they're in pain, and it's hard to imagine how they could not be. And this is not just the dental malady talking here.
Speaking of which, it turns out I have some rare condition dealing with the roots of my teeth. So "events" like this -- that's what the oral surgeon called them, "events" -- are going to occur from time to time. To me, this is an "event" in the way the mining disaster was an "event." But hey, at least I might make it into a dental textbook somewhere.
I'm about to venture out and get my oil changed. This will lead to uniquely male feelings of insecurity, as though I should be hopping under there and doing it myself simply because of my chromosomal makeup. Maybe I should take something butch with me to make myself feel better, like The Rock or a gun.
This morning I woke up to a little film called Ghosts of Girlfriends Past on HBO. Now this is the type of movie that I think people near universally could tell from the trailer was going to be roughly the worst movie ever made, and I include in that group Nazi propaganda films and the After School Special on angel dust staring Helen Hunt. But man, did we overestimate it. I don't think there is a five minute segment anywhere in there that is even watchable. I know this because I kept changing the channel every five minutes and then trying to go back, in the name of science of course. Everyone in it looks like they're in pain, and it's hard to imagine how they could not be. And this is not just the dental malady talking here.
Speaking of which, it turns out I have some rare condition dealing with the roots of my teeth. So "events" like this -- that's what the oral surgeon called them, "events" -- are going to occur from time to time. To me, this is an "event" in the way the mining disaster was an "event." But hey, at least I might make it into a dental textbook somewhere.
I'm about to venture out and get my oil changed. This will lead to uniquely male feelings of insecurity, as though I should be hopping under there and doing it myself simply because of my chromosomal makeup. Maybe I should take something butch with me to make myself feel better, like The Rock or a gun.
