Guess What This Post is About
Contrary to what you may think, I am not a prescription drug addict. What I am is a big fat baby with an incredibly low tolerance for pain. I don't even like putting chemicals in my body, unless they are of the bourbon variety of course.
This morning I called my doctor's office because I needed a refill of my allergy medication. I told the receptionist the dosage, etc. and which pharmacy to call. She said "Do you have the number?" I said "No, I'm kind of driving right now." She was sitting at her desk with a phone book and an internet connection six inches from her hands, but it was my responsibility to call her back with the number. I have been in this office quite a bit and I have never seen any of the seven receptionists do very much other than gossip and eat the free food brought in by the drug reps. This bitch is so lazy that she makes me look like Martha Stewart.
The root canal was a snap, with two exceptions. The first was that God awful novacaine shot to the place where my jaw bends. Whose idea was that? The dentist also had a technique I had never witnessed before where he pinched my cheek and moved it back and forth to spread the novacaine. Whatever works. The second was the fact that he would not prescribe me anything for pain. He suggested that I take Alleve or Advil. Look buddy, I'm surprised that Alleve is still even on the market, AND Advil doesn't taste like candy for no reason. It was made for someone who could endure a Brazilian bikini wax, not for someone like me who cries when they get a papercut.
I have to go now because Can't Buy Me Love is on. Remember that movie? The fact that it was released 18 years ago is causing me a pain much greater than anything even Percocet could relieve.
This morning I called my doctor's office because I needed a refill of my allergy medication. I told the receptionist the dosage, etc. and which pharmacy to call. She said "Do you have the number?" I said "No, I'm kind of driving right now." She was sitting at her desk with a phone book and an internet connection six inches from her hands, but it was my responsibility to call her back with the number. I have been in this office quite a bit and I have never seen any of the seven receptionists do very much other than gossip and eat the free food brought in by the drug reps. This bitch is so lazy that she makes me look like Martha Stewart.
The root canal was a snap, with two exceptions. The first was that God awful novacaine shot to the place where my jaw bends. Whose idea was that? The dentist also had a technique I had never witnessed before where he pinched my cheek and moved it back and forth to spread the novacaine. Whatever works. The second was the fact that he would not prescribe me anything for pain. He suggested that I take Alleve or Advil. Look buddy, I'm surprised that Alleve is still even on the market, AND Advil doesn't taste like candy for no reason. It was made for someone who could endure a Brazilian bikini wax, not for someone like me who cries when they get a papercut.
I have to go now because Can't Buy Me Love is on. Remember that movie? The fact that it was released 18 years ago is causing me a pain much greater than anything even Percocet could relieve.
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