I guess I should have paid a little more attention in regards to the details of Toby's orthodontist appointment. I had assumed it was going to be a short consultation, some paperwork, and outta there. You know, twenty minutes, tops....
Wrong. I found out when we got there that the ol' tooth doc was going to go ahead and make a mold and put the braces for Toby's upper teeth in place. This process was going to take at least an hour if not more.....Shit. I should have brought a book.
Whenever I'm bored my mind starts to wander off into some really strange and far out places. Timothy Leary can keep his psychedelic drugs, for my mind is busy enough in it's present, unenlightened, form.
So here are the thoughts that I jotted down on my iPhone while sitting and waiting for Toby to get done.
I'm sitting and watching all the clown fish swimming around in the waiting room fish tank. Can a fish really be considered a pet? I mean, yes, you care for it but you don't really play with it. You can't play fetch or make it swim through a hoop.....It just keeps swimming.
And swimming in it's own pee, no less. I understand that there is a filter for the fish tank but what if the fish peed in the far opposite corner? That means some other unsuspecting Nemo is going to get a gill full of urine. Disgusting.
If a fish had half a brain he would pee right by the filter and let the suction take it away before his friends get a chance to swim into his waste....Gotta be thoughtful man. Gotta be thoughtful.
(Before I go any further --- I guess I should have warned you that a lot of my thoughts either don't make sense or are just plain stupid. Now that I have that out of the way, we can move on)
Someone should hang a small trough just above the water line for the fish to pee in. They could just float on their back and cut loose; then swim away comforted by the knowledge that they no longer have to worry about swimming in someone else's waste.
If the fish hit's the mark, then chances are it's female. If the stream is all over the damn place and hitting everything but it's intended target, then it is most definitely male.
If the stream is strong and steady it is a young fish. If the fish is going to the bathroom constantly, has a weak stream and dribbles, then he is an older fish that probably needs to get his prostate checked.
I look at the clock....It has only been ten minutes...Crap.
I wonder if salt water fish get high blood pressure?
You know, being a pet fish would suck. I think their short life expectancy can be directly linked to boredom...Just looking at the pet fish to do list is enough to convince me of that.....
1. Wake up
2. Eat crappy food
3. Swim
4. Pee
5. Poop
6. Swim some more
7. Go to sleep
Yeah, if there is such a thing as reincarnation and I come back as a pet fish....I'm jumping out of the tank.
The ol' Doc seems to be a big fan of all thing's seventies. He has seventies music piping though the speakers and a pac man game in the kids game room. The only things missing are lava lamps and bell bottoms......Play that funky music, white boy.
Man, somebody call or text. I'd even talk to a telemarketer at this point; and that's saying something.
A woman walks in with tattoos on both of her arms. I have always found tattoos fascinating; which is odd considering I don't have any myself. But there is one thing about her tattoos that really bothers me. She has four tattoos on one arm, but only one on the other.
Now, I know.....It's not like ink weighs that much, but I feel as if her uneven tattoo placement is throwing off her equilibrium. Not that I ever would walk up to a stranger --- but if I did I would want take a magic marker with me and ask her, "Can I draw a couple of pictures on your left arm.....It would make me feel better."
Tattoos are a like a car wreck for me.....I have to look. So, ladies, if you are wearing a low cut shirt and there is a tattoo showing above one of your breasts.....I'm going to look..I can't help it -- I'm just stupid like that. I simply must know what it is.
Who thought it was a good idea to make men's underwear white? Did the creator of whitey tightey's not have an accurate sample size of the average male?
Man, my ass fell asleep. I need to get up and get a drink.
I've always been paranoid at the dentist/orthodontist. Not only will I brush and floss several times, but I will also blow my nose repeatedly until I get there. The thought of some pretty young dental assistant counting how many crusties I have in my nose just bothers me to the point of near insanity.
Do you think the employees at the dentist's office have a board in a back room somewhere where they can place bets on how many boogers they see on that particular day.
"Good morning, Sally....What's the over/under today?"
Man, I'm dying over here.
Do you think that aliens abduct some of their unsuspecting humans by way of fishing? A cheeseburger would make good bait.
If the Aliens hook a human wearing braces will it scare the shit out of them?
"Christ, Bill, cut the damn line!!!!"
"What in the hell are you talkin' 'bout, Fred. It's a keeper."
"Look at that mouth, Bill. That thing will tear you to shreds. You gonna stick yer hand in that?"
"Um....."
"Exactly....Cut the damn line. That thing is not getting in my boat."
"Ah, C'mon Fred."
"Dammit, Bill, I'll give you a case of beer if you cut the line."
"Throw in a can o' chew and you got yerself a deal."
"Fine....Just cut the damn line."
Even in deep space, there are rednecks, I suppose.
"Sir?"
Snort....."Wha?"
"We are done," says the assistant, um, whatever she's called, "You just need to schedule another appointment for eight weeks from now. Ok?"
"No problem." I say as I vault myself out of my chair......Hallelujah, I'm free
I am so glad this torture is done....and you can bet your ass I'm brining a book to the next appointment.
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