Update: Still no uploading capabilities. Fuck. FUCK FUCK FUCK. Double fuck.
It is time to investigate some new options. I have decided that in the event that i need to move this site, this one shall remain up, but I will start to upload new comics as well as old ones at the same time, so if(when) the new site emerges, every other day or so will be an old comic, and then a new comic. Get it? It's the lazy man's way of updating!
And now, let's see what kind of story I can crank out to keep you occupied until I figure out what is going on:
It is time to investigate some new options. I have decided that in the event that i need to move this site, this one shall remain up, but I will start to upload new comics as well as old ones at the same time, so if(when) the new site emerges, every other day or so will be an old comic, and then a new comic. Get it? It's the lazy man's way of updating!
And now, let's see what kind of story I can crank out to keep you occupied until I figure out what is going on:
Becca's Fake Teeth
Few people know this about me, unless they have been Cosmic/Glo Bowling with me, but some of my teeth are * gasp * fake. This is the story of how they got to be that way.
(The comsmic/glo bowl reference is when under a blacklight, my teeth glow A LOT and thus are obvious which ones are fake. If you do not know what cosmic/glo bowling is then I pity you because YOU HAVE NOT LIVED YOU FOOL!)
Long ago, in the early 90s (or late 80s) I got a pair of roller skates. i took to them like pigs to anal sex. (Sorry, this story isn't really graphic so I am trying to make it so, in the standard of my last two fecal stories.) My brother had a brown banana seat bike. One of my favorite activities was tying a jumprope to the end of his bike an having him pull me on my roller skates. I am quite sure this was not one of Jameson's favorite activities, but this isn't his blog, so screw him!
Well, one day, he is pulling me, and we get to the end of the block. Now, the end of my block is where roots from trees have pushed up and cracked the sidewalk all funky-like. When we get to this part, I trip. My hands are tangled in the jump rope, and I cannot get free. And Jameson keeps going. Not for very long, mind you, just like, 5 feet or so. If you ask my mother, however, she will tell you he dragged me five blocks and then beat me with reeds or some such nonsense. That five feet, however, managed to mangle my legs pretty badly, and while I was tangled, I could not keep my head up. My face kept hitting the ground.
When I stand up, Jameson is OBVIOUSLY scared shitless. So, we run home. My mother is bawling her eyes out. I am in shock, and feel no pain, so it doesn't exactly bother me much. Before she drives me to the hospital, she reams Jameson out and tells him he has to go outside and pick up every peice of tooth he can find as a punishment. He subsequently comes back with a bunch of pebbles and Lord only knows what. Right about now you should be feeling badly for Jameson, he was like, 8 or something, and had no idea what bits of ground up teeth look like, but did not want to come home empty handed, so he picked up whatever he could find.
The hospital patches up my legs, and tells my mother to see a dentist and to not let me eat anything solid or too hot or too cold. Hurray for room tempature bananas. Holy crap. i just figured out why I don't like bananas.
Now my teeth get replaced, I am not some horrible snaggled-toothed monster or anything (if I could upload images, I would have a close-up of Jewel right now). And you shouldn't feel sorry for me. Not yet at least. The replacement of teeth took awhile, but it also meant I never needed braces, which was a plus, just ask my sister Penelope.
Here's where you sholdl start pitying me:
Three weeks later, i have to go see the dentist again. he didn't like that the whole time he is replacing teeth, i didn't feel anything. Oh yes, all my nerves are dead. I need about 7 root canals. Why should you feel badly for me NOW, and not before? Well, because my mother didn't say WHY I had to go back to the dentist, I just had to. I didn't find out until I got there. And then the dentist explained WHAT a root canal WAS, and I gotta tell you, they aren't pleseant, and they are downright scarey. Nothing like drilling DANGEROUSLY close to one's brain to make you feel less than immortal.
After the root canals my father takes me out for Taco Bell. i think this is more for his amusement than anything else. Beans + Cheese + Novacain + Seven Year Old = Pretty Fucking Funny
(The comsmic/glo bowl reference is when under a blacklight, my teeth glow A LOT and thus are obvious which ones are fake. If you do not know what cosmic/glo bowling is then I pity you because YOU HAVE NOT LIVED YOU FOOL!)
Long ago, in the early 90s (or late 80s) I got a pair of roller skates. i took to them like pigs to anal sex. (Sorry, this story isn't really graphic so I am trying to make it so, in the standard of my last two fecal stories.) My brother had a brown banana seat bike. One of my favorite activities was tying a jumprope to the end of his bike an having him pull me on my roller skates. I am quite sure this was not one of Jameson's favorite activities, but this isn't his blog, so screw him!
Well, one day, he is pulling me, and we get to the end of the block. Now, the end of my block is where roots from trees have pushed up and cracked the sidewalk all funky-like. When we get to this part, I trip. My hands are tangled in the jump rope, and I cannot get free. And Jameson keeps going. Not for very long, mind you, just like, 5 feet or so. If you ask my mother, however, she will tell you he dragged me five blocks and then beat me with reeds or some such nonsense. That five feet, however, managed to mangle my legs pretty badly, and while I was tangled, I could not keep my head up. My face kept hitting the ground.
When I stand up, Jameson is OBVIOUSLY scared shitless. So, we run home. My mother is bawling her eyes out. I am in shock, and feel no pain, so it doesn't exactly bother me much. Before she drives me to the hospital, she reams Jameson out and tells him he has to go outside and pick up every peice of tooth he can find as a punishment. He subsequently comes back with a bunch of pebbles and Lord only knows what. Right about now you should be feeling badly for Jameson, he was like, 8 or something, and had no idea what bits of ground up teeth look like, but did not want to come home empty handed, so he picked up whatever he could find.
The hospital patches up my legs, and tells my mother to see a dentist and to not let me eat anything solid or too hot or too cold. Hurray for room tempature bananas. Holy crap. i just figured out why I don't like bananas.
Now my teeth get replaced, I am not some horrible snaggled-toothed monster or anything (if I could upload images, I would have a close-up of Jewel right now). And you shouldn't feel sorry for me. Not yet at least. The replacement of teeth took awhile, but it also meant I never needed braces, which was a plus, just ask my sister Penelope.
Here's where you sholdl start pitying me:
Three weeks later, i have to go see the dentist again. he didn't like that the whole time he is replacing teeth, i didn't feel anything. Oh yes, all my nerves are dead. I need about 7 root canals. Why should you feel badly for me NOW, and not before? Well, because my mother didn't say WHY I had to go back to the dentist, I just had to. I didn't find out until I got there. And then the dentist explained WHAT a root canal WAS, and I gotta tell you, they aren't pleseant, and they are downright scarey. Nothing like drilling DANGEROUSLY close to one's brain to make you feel less than immortal.
After the root canals my father takes me out for Taco Bell. i think this is more for his amusement than anything else. Beans + Cheese + Novacain + Seven Year Old = Pretty Fucking Funny
1 comment:
They once knocked my Dad out and gave him a root canal without even telling him until after he woke up (they knocked him out for some other mundane reason)
Yes, root canals are scary. You have my pity (or sympathy, if you would prefer)
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