Thursday, August 12, 2004
On the Plus Side, At Least I Have Drugs
We were somewhere around the doctor's office on the edge of town when the drugs started to kick in. I remember saying something like, "I feel a bit lightheaded; maybe you should drive..." And suddenly there was a terrible roar all around us and the sky was full of what looked like huge bats, all swooping and screeching and diving around the car, which was going about forty miles an hour with the top down to our house. And a voice was screaming: "Holy Jesus! What are these goddamn animals?"
All this is my long, Hunter S. Thompson-esque way of saying that the oral surgery was a success, my wisdom teeth are singing with the choir invisible, and I am heavily medicated. I can't eat anything with a consistency tougher than cotton candy. And my chin and lower lip feel deader than Corey Feldman's career.
All this is my long, Hunter S. Thompson-esque way of saying that the oral surgery was a success, my wisdom teeth are singing with the choir invisible, and I am heavily medicated. I can't eat anything with a consistency tougher than cotton candy. And my chin and lower lip feel deader than Corey Feldman's career.
