My physical therapist was so completely taken aback by the sex question.  The “rawkin’ out on bass” question was more her speed.  I have to come up with something new to ask her at my appointment tomorrow.

 

“Can I fly with my dragon again?  I miss the stunning vistas.  I don’t want to, you know, wear out my wings.  I could just ride, but hanging on is kind of slippery.  The scales.  You know.”

“May I visit my friend on Venus?  I mean, the atmosphere might affect the breathing exercises you gave me, so I thought I’d better ask.”

“When I asked you about sex, I forgot to mention that my husband is an elf.  Does that change your advice?”

 

Anything else I should ask?  I want to cover all my bases here.

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Nude!  Nude!  Elves and sprites, nude and frolicking in sylvan splendor!  Click here now!

 

I am so freaking sick of sp4m, I could barf Lucky Charms.

Jack avatar

Apparently he is not a sprite after all (note the lack of wings).  He is an elf.  I am glad that I have been alerted to this incompatibility.  Look how happy he is, though, smoking underneath the magic mushroom.  And when Jack is happy, I am happy.

 

I drew this picture years ago and just found it in a pile of old papers and craft supplies in the basement.  It does look kind of ancient and runic, no?  Like something found in a battered leather-bound tome?   OK, I’m just really disorganized and delusional.  But I wanted to share it.  I hope it brings a bit of delight to your day.

I had the best visit to the dentist EVER yesterday.  I had taken a valium beforehand- for muscle spasm, mind you, not anxiety- I am not afraid of the dentist.  In fact, I rather enjoy going.  Since almost all my teeth already have fillings, there’s rarely any more bad news.

 

Anyway, they put me back in this wonderfully comfy chair and it was just like being asleep with my mouth open, except I started having these really awesome hallucinations!  (They were not dreams.  These drugs put me into the deepest of dreamless sleeps.)  There was an Asian girl standing in front of me, wearing the cutest t-shirt ever.  There were little brown snippets of hair all over the place like when I cut Jack’s hair (this didn’t gross me out.  It was just weird, and I like weird; this was a tactile hallucination, which is pretty cool!).   Then Sheba was standing on my right shoulder, with her nose by my ear (so comforting).  Then it was over.  They (back to boring reality here) told me my teeth look great despite two weeks of subsisting on the stale, sticky Nutri-Grain cereal bars (strawberry) that I had bought in an institutional-size box at Big Lots, and decided to hate halfway through.  (I hadn’t even been able to give them away at work.  Who turns down free food?)

 

Nothing like that has happened to me since I saw Bert and Ernie doing the jitterbug on a Greyhound bus at 3am- and that is why I never take Benedryl anymore.  I didn’t even trip when someone (surreptitiously) put a little paper square in my Mountain Dew at one long-ago summer music festival.  Bummer, hey?

 

(I feel like I need to add a “don’t try this at home” disclaimer: I seem to remember an old movie- I saw it in Spanish (El Dentiste) but I don’t remember if it was dubbed or really in Spanish or what.  It was about this evil dentist that gave women too much anesthesia and…well…bad things happened. ) I told you I have the gift of extra angelic protections, and also just a really great dentist, so just…I’ll leave it at that.