Pardon me, your ass is showing...

You know, I just LOVE how people act in the internet world. People will say anything, about anyone. And it's usually the ones that have NO business talking trash about people that are the gang leaders.

Case in point. There is a certain chatter on gay.com. We'll call him, gee, I don't know...Eric. He has got to be one of the most negative people I have ever met. He seems to find joy in constantly making fun of other people's problems. And when you bring it up to him, he does the whole 'pot-kettle' thing. Guess he doesn't understand that some of us realize that there are boundaries. He seems to get great pleasure out of crossing the line repeatedly, making fun of someone. Going just far enough to make someone uncomfortable. As if they aren't in the same chatroom. I'd love to see if he could muster enough backbone out of his tiny balls to say any of the crap he spews, in person. And I find it equally amusing that he only acts like a warthog's backside when certain other people are in the room. Any other time, he actually appears to have an inkling of civility. Kind of like the pathetic little 7th grade bully. When his gang is there, he's the big man. When they aren't around, he's just another snot nosed little boy, desperate for a friend.

Which only leads one to believe that he has some serious self esteem issues. I mean, surely someone as self-confident as he says he is wouldn't feel the need to belittle other people's hardships. Kind of sad that the only way he can bolster himself is to try and make everyone else seem worse off than he is. Which is hardly believable. Those of you who have met him know exactly who I am talking about.

Now I know we all like to joke around and what not online. But I will never understand why people think the fact that they aren't speaking to someone face to face gives them license to be a complete jackass ALL the time. Like they are exempt from being respectful of others. The rules don't apply to them. Kind of like those people who have handicap parking permits (say, because a relative is disabled) but aren't handicapped themselves, and still use them to park in handicapped spaces. No names needed here; those of us who were at Joes that night saw him pitch a fit when someone called him out on it. Get real. The only thing handicapped about those people are their social skills. It's pathetic and sad...

Ok, I'll get off the cross now. Eric needs the wood to beat someone else down..

Say Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

You know, growing up the son of an orthodontist, I have had every sort of dental appliance in my mouth. I had braces (complete with multi-color rubberbands), a retainer, a headgear, and countless mouthfuls of that impression putty. Talk about leaving a bad taste in your mouth. It's no wonder I had put off going to the dentist for years.

Yeah yeah yeah, I know you are supposed to go twice a year to get your teeth cleaned and what not, so you don't end up doing denture cream commercials at the age of 40. But every time I got up the nerve to actually make an appointment, I'd have flashbacks of drills and that annoying grinding sound and feeling like I was going to drown in my own spit. Back in the days of my youth (gracious, it's finally happened..I now sound like my father!), going to the dentist usually involved untold amounts of pain and suffering. They'd say "you'll just feel a little pinch", and then stick it to you. And there you would lie, wishing they would just amputate your lower jaw and be done with it. Two weeks ago, I had an excrutiating toothache, and decided it was finally time to assume the position in that lime green chair, and deal with whatever fate the gods of plaque and enamel dealt me.

Soothing music, soft spoken personnel, warm colors everywhere. I knew this was all a ploy to lull me into a false sense of security about my upcoming cavity search. No sooner had I sat in the chair and been draped with the obligatory spit-bib than they dropped the bomb on me. A root canal!!!! From what I knew of the procedure, they were going to have to strap me into the chair and club me with a 2x4 to knock me out. I couldn't have been more wrong. The dentist placed some numbing gel in my mouth for a few seconds, and then said the proverbial words. "This will feel like a little mosquito bite." I tensed up, ready to feel like I just bit down on the mother of all bumble bees. And to my surprise, I didn't feel a thing! I don't know what was in that gel, but it became my new best friend. An hour and a half later, I was set free. Drooling everywhere and talking out of the side of my face. Other than the fact that for a couple of hours I looked like I had lost all muscle control in the right side of my face, I didn't have any problems.

I went back this morning to get fitted for the temporary crown. In two weeks, I'll have a nice new shiny piece of porcelain to reflect off of my tongue ring. After that comes the cleaning. If they give me more of that magical gel, they can just rip them out, bleach them, and glue them back in for all I care!

Ooh ooh ooh...only two more hours until I can eat something. Guess I'll be saving this king-sized Snickers bar for another day!