To discuss an oral exam, and that's not a sexual reference

The last time I was at a dentist, he ripped four wisdom teeth out of my mouth, two days before Christmas.
The time before that, it was to take off braces after three painful years during high school.
The time before that, I had 11 baby teeth removed. As a ninth grader. I would have made a great prison bitch for an inmate out there.

So it might be understandable that I took a few (say, five) years off from going to the dentist, since I had no cavities or other issues that needed attention in the meantime. I associate the dentist with pain and remorse. I mean, it's like having a root canal!*

Yesterday, I went. I promised Capricorn I'd get a dental check-up and a physical (still working on that part) to start off 2009 right, as I've been lazy about those things and she doesn't want me to end up a toothless, cholesterol-ridden dirty old man. She wants me to be a healthy dirty old man. Plus, I have good dental insurance, so it's silly not to go.

Let's recap my trip to the dentist:

• A dental assistant performed a series of X-rays on my mouth. After the 17th or 18th X-ray, I wondered if the oncoming cancer would kill me quickly, or if it would take awhile. She stuck a strange object in my mouth at odd angles, told me to bite down and press a button to activate it. Now I know how Jenna Jameson feels.
• I told the dental assistant she looks like actress Evan Rachel Wood. I did not mention that Evan Rachel Wood was married to Marilyn Manson, as I figured that might take away the compliment.
• You know it's been a long time since your last dental visit when you're blown away they have flat screen TVs perched by your dental chair. The last time I went, all I got was a Ten Commandments poster on the ceiling reminding me how much of a sinner I am. That way, I could have teeth ripped out AND remind myself not to covet any milfs!
  
• The dentist and another assistant start talking behind me about what the devil looks like. "Comforting," I thought. They decided he didn't have horns. But he would have cavities.
  
• The dentist examined the X-rays (glad I remembered not to wear my grill today) and then my mouth. "Ooooh. C'mon. Really? There's nothing to do, nurse assistant's name," the dentist said. "Looks like somebody's got great teeth," assistant with the braces said. I smiled, confident in my dental perfection.
  
• They both then described all the horrible teeth they see-- evidently, Mountain Dew erodes teeth like hot oil on a moat full of Crusaders. The worst, he said, was "meth mouth"- meth heads with no teeth. Yet another reason not to do meth. As if that whole cracked egg in the frying pan thing hadn't already convinced me.
• I was happy and confident- they didn't have to do a thing. And then they told me the oral hygienist was available for my free cleaning. "Hold the fort. Hygienist? How can she clean perfection?" I thought.
• It only took about 30 seconds of the hygienist sucking, scraping, poking and grinding** for me to remember why I hate going to the dentist. It's especially nice when they ask you questions and you respond like the love child of Wookie and Helen Keller. "So, are you flossing?" "Ehwahhal!" "How many times do you brush a day?" "Weaananana" "I'm going to molest you roughly, with no safe word. Is that OK?" "Ajjelalaloo!!!"
  
• I'm a mouth breather at night, so evidently that means my gums dry up and are more prone to bleeding. At least that's what the hygienist told me when she held up a mirror and my mouth looked like Texas Molar Massacre. And yet, she said I have great teeth, healthy gums and no cavities. That's Andy 1, Eating Way Too Much Sugar And Not Flossing Enough, 0.
• It took me several hours to get over the feeling of choking on the cocktail of my own saliva, tooth particles, blood and gargled water. I think next time I'll request they shoot vodka into my mouth to rinse. And that I not be awake. And that I get to put in those fake vampire teeth first.
  
• When she was done, my teeth felt so clean I could eat off them-- and I will!***
  

* Jokes like this don't come easy. I'm going to start charging.
** Not a euphemism.
*** That joke will cost you $10.

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I still plan on doing the word verification Mad Lib from last Friday; I just haven't had the chance yet. And this weekend, I'm going to Pittsburgh to show Capricorn my nearby hometown and to meet up with college friends... and to celebrate the Steelers victory. I promise to Weekend Update the crap out of all of it.