Nothing is as symptomatic of the plague that is "blogging" than posting an update about my teeth. Let me tell you about my upcoming oral surgery, because it's fascinating. Seriously.
In a mouth without even a SINGLE cavity, there exists a rogue molar hell-bent on revenge. If a movie were made, I want my molar to be played by a tough, loner type. Like Charles Bronson. Or, I want it played by an asshole. Like Dane Cook.
The dentist's office assistant informed me that the oral "care" for which I was scheduled would total $3500. I laughed at her. She then told me I had horrible dental insurance, a fact I could have let her in on before any of this farce began. She laughed at me. Then, we laughed together and I told her I would seek my surgery elsewhere.
So, I've decided to throw my dental plight at the feet of the student doctors of New York University. After what I'm expecting to be seven clumsy man-hours hammering away at my molars, the deed will be done at a substantially lower rate. For awhile, I entertained the idea of having them replace the old tooth with the tooth of another animal. Like a beaver or sabertooth tiger. I figure as long as it's cheap...