The laws have changed

It's funny the way life happens. Actually, that's not true. It's usually pretty darn depressing the way things turn out but I suppose that's neither here nor there for my purposes right now. Just last night I was chatting with Seth about all manner of things. Suddenly, for no apparent reason, Seth informs me that he thinks his mother (KW, to longtime readers) is possibly a meth addict. As I already presume most of my close acquaintances are using various mind-altering substances at any given time, I did not ask for proof. Nevertheless, he provided proof for this particular pudding: her teeth are falling out.

Not being up on the specific side-effects of tweaking, I had to take him at his word. In an overabundance of caution I have already contacted the folks from the A & E's show, Intervention. We all want to be on TV. Getting there on the back of circumstantial evidence of the drug addiction of one of my closest friends is as good as any, says I.

But in a staggering display of the divine omniscience of God, knowing that I would be writing the above words this afternoon, He saw fit to have me lose a tooth of my own. Or at least part of a tooth. Oh, God. You rascal.

Though I practice good dental hygiene with regular brushing and occasional flossing, I've been blessed with the teeth of the average Britain circa 1908. (Apologies for the lazy, obvious British teeth joke) To the best of my knowledge there is not a single tooth in my head that does not have at least one filling. Some have multiple fillings, which is really quite sexy when you think about it. I'm not really sure why but it just is. Or at least that's what I tell myself.

What all this means to you, dear reader, is probably nothing. Sure, I may get another post out of it if my completely competent dentist accidentally drills my gum, or I hear a particularly annoying song on the office sound system. Hopefully that won't happen.

This is the second occurrence of a tooth breaking off all of sudden. And though I'm quite certain I'm not currently using meth, all this tooth decay does have me wondering just what's up. I suppose the 5 gallons of Mountain Dew I use to wash down the multiple packs of Oreos each day probably don't help. Oh well.

Nevertheless, it has gotten me to thinking about checking into false teeth or at least some badass grillz. Pretty much since I first started seeing them on my fave ballers, I've always thought that was an avenue I'd eventually be heading down. Not really wanting to get street cred through that whole prison route, I figure dropping a few benjamins on some gold plates would do the trick. I know it's popular to get something really street engraved on one's grillz--high rolla, thug 4 lif or what have you--but I don't really think that's my personality. I'm pretty hard, understand, maybe even occasionally thug. But 4 lif just seems a little much. I don't know that I have that much determination or stamina. So instead I think I'll probably just get "I ♥ friends" across the top and maybe two hands clasping across the bottom.

Or maybe I'll just get the dentist to pull them all and accept a life of gumming oatmeal and weeping silently.

Decisions, decisions.