So in the aftermath of having a tooth pulled, there is this.... hole in my head.
(Finally, its out in the open! I've been trying to tell you people this for a long, long time.... Nobody ever listens to me, I....)
You know ( ) you really don't know the difference between fact and metaphor do you?
(Hey I ask you, where would poets be without proper punctuation?)
Be quiet.
( )
Thank you. As I was saying, I have this hole where my tooth used to be. It is slowly filling itself in and after seeing the size of one's whole tooth, I imagine there is a lot of tissue to grow. I feel sorry for the poor contractor in charge of this bodily function, especially seeings as how I don't feel all that much like eating with this cavern in my jaw. Though at least in the last few days, solid food is on the menu again. The first three or four days, I drank smoothies and soy milk and drinkable yogurt.
My poor body is probably irritated with me. I can just hear Mr. Contractor, in charge of the Fill up the Hole project.
Mr. Contractor: Okay people listen up! We have a tooth extraction to clean up after. Let's get to work.
Helper: I'll let you know what raw materials we have to work with.
Mr. C: [Consulting clipboard] Allrighty then, what's coming down the gullet today?
Helper: Whole wheat waffles and milk!
Mr. C. Okay, not bad, not bad. Send that to the extraction site ASAP. Anything else?
Helper: Nope. Mr. C: Okay, let's wait for lunch.
Tick tick tick.
Helper: Heads up, incoming. Cheese sandwich with lettuce. Cheese nips. Berries and Cream Dr. Pepper, and um.... What are these things? Oh! Dried peaches.
Mr. C: We could sure use a little more protein. What's wrong with this chick? Helper: Well, that's your lot.
Later.
Helper: Incoming!
Mr. C: About time, what have we got?
Helper: Er, more dried peaches?
Mr. C: How am I supposed to work with this kind of material? I've got cells screaming at me for some real building materials over here.
Helper: Hey, Im just the messenger here. Back off.
Mr. C: Sorry. Lets take a break.
Helper: Great, see you later.
Much later....
Helper: Incoming, and fast!
Mr. C: Finally. What time is it? Crap, look at that, its 7:45 PM. Oh well, at least this will keep the night shift up and running. What are we getting?
Helper: Fish, cheese, white bread, ketchup, and potatoes. Oh boy, McDonalds. [Eyes the pile, then Mr. C.] Don't even think about it. If you dont like what's coming in, you are going to have to get in touch with Common Sense over in Logic. But good luck. She hasn't answered their mail for six months.
Mr. C: Somebody is going to have to wake this broad up. How are we supposed to take care of this situation with fast food?
Helper: Well, you could talk to the REMs.
Mr. C: Are you serious? What good is a dream going to do?
Helper: I hear she has been writing hers down in a book hoping to make sense of them.
Mr. C: What the hell, Ill try anything at this point. We are going to be working on this for months if we don't get some better resources. Get em on the horn.
Helper: I'm on it.
REM Center: Hello, you have reached the offices of the REM department. Your call WILL be recorded for quality purposes, and most likely used at a later date as filler in between dream sequences. For your convenience, please choose from our automated menu. If you are dreaming, press 1. If you want to dream, press 2. If you are dreaming and driving, press 3. Right now! If you want to talk to a REM representative, press 4. If you want to know the meaning of your dream..... go fish.
Helper: [On hold] Oh boy. Its gonna be a long night.
[album 65561 GoofyHen2.JPG]"Buk!
I think I'm in the wrong place.
Who's that man with the clipboard?
And why is there elevator music playing?"
( ) Here. I have ommited several apostropies in protest of the constant disrespect thrown at me by She Who Must Not Be Named. That'll show her.
(Finally, its out in the open! I've been trying to tell you people this for a long, long time.... Nobody ever listens to me, I....)
You know ( ) you really don't know the difference between fact and metaphor do you?
(Hey I ask you, where would poets be without proper punctuation?)
Be quiet.
( )
Thank you. As I was saying, I have this hole where my tooth used to be. It is slowly filling itself in and after seeing the size of one's whole tooth, I imagine there is a lot of tissue to grow. I feel sorry for the poor contractor in charge of this bodily function, especially seeings as how I don't feel all that much like eating with this cavern in my jaw. Though at least in the last few days, solid food is on the menu again. The first three or four days, I drank smoothies and soy milk and drinkable yogurt.
My poor body is probably irritated with me. I can just hear Mr. Contractor, in charge of the Fill up the Hole project.
Mr. Contractor: Okay people listen up! We have a tooth extraction to clean up after. Let's get to work.
Helper: I'll let you know what raw materials we have to work with.
Mr. C: [Consulting clipboard] Allrighty then, what's coming down the gullet today?
Helper: Whole wheat waffles and milk!
Mr. C. Okay, not bad, not bad. Send that to the extraction site ASAP. Anything else?
Helper: Nope. Mr. C: Okay, let's wait for lunch.
Tick tick tick.
Helper: Heads up, incoming. Cheese sandwich with lettuce. Cheese nips. Berries and Cream Dr. Pepper, and um.... What are these things? Oh! Dried peaches.
Mr. C: We could sure use a little more protein. What's wrong with this chick? Helper: Well, that's your lot.
Later.
Helper: Incoming!
Mr. C: About time, what have we got?
Helper: Er, more dried peaches?
Mr. C: How am I supposed to work with this kind of material? I've got cells screaming at me for some real building materials over here.
Helper: Hey, Im just the messenger here. Back off.
Mr. C: Sorry. Lets take a break.
Helper: Great, see you later.
Much later....
Helper: Incoming, and fast!
Mr. C: Finally. What time is it? Crap, look at that, its 7:45 PM. Oh well, at least this will keep the night shift up and running. What are we getting?
Helper: Fish, cheese, white bread, ketchup, and potatoes. Oh boy, McDonalds. [Eyes the pile, then Mr. C.] Don't even think about it. If you dont like what's coming in, you are going to have to get in touch with Common Sense over in Logic. But good luck. She hasn't answered their mail for six months.
Mr. C: Somebody is going to have to wake this broad up. How are we supposed to take care of this situation with fast food?
Helper: Well, you could talk to the REMs.
Mr. C: Are you serious? What good is a dream going to do?
Helper: I hear she has been writing hers down in a book hoping to make sense of them.
Mr. C: What the hell, Ill try anything at this point. We are going to be working on this for months if we don't get some better resources. Get em on the horn.
Helper: I'm on it.
REM Center: Hello, you have reached the offices of the REM department. Your call WILL be recorded for quality purposes, and most likely used at a later date as filler in between dream sequences. For your convenience, please choose from our automated menu. If you are dreaming, press 1. If you want to dream, press 2. If you are dreaming and driving, press 3. Right now! If you want to talk to a REM representative, press 4. If you want to know the meaning of your dream..... go fish.
Helper: [On hold] Oh boy. Its gonna be a long night.
[album 65561 GoofyHen2.JPG]"Buk!
I think I'm in the wrong place.
Who's that man with the clipboard?
And why is there elevator music playing?"
( ) Here. I have ommited several apostropies in protest of the constant disrespect thrown at me by She Who Must Not Be Named. That'll show her.