…not even the kind from Buffy the Vampire Slayer who get to fuck Sarah Michelle Gellar (Although the added bonus of watching her shriek, “Oh God; it’s cold!” is appealing to me in a marginal kind of way).
As much as I respect Joss Whedon’s work, I don’t think he’s thought this whole “vampire” thing through. Yeah, you get the eternal life, and apparently they hand you the black leather jacket at the first meeting, but by all appearances, you also get the severe calcium loss. Because based on that show, you can drive a stake through a vampire’s ribcage by thinking about it real hard. When “One Time At Band Camp” chick from American Pie can force a chunk of pine through a sternum without the benefit of a ten-pound sledge? That’s not goth-romantic; that’s osteoporosis. And no one swoons for a Creature Of The Night with a humpback and a bionic hip. Which probably also explains Valerie Bertinelli walked out on Eddie Van Halen, but I digress.
And if you’re dealing with those kind of brittle bones for eternity, I figure you’re looking at one of two options: extensive, constant dental work, or finding out how much blood you can get through a rubber sippy-cup nipple before it clots. Neither of which attract the ladies. Not even the desperate, overweight goth ones who hang out at the mall.
I bring this up because in about an hour, I’m going to the dentist for the first time in about ten years. So I’m looking forward to a good hour, hour and a half of constant scraping and bad news, neither of which I’m interested in. Can somebody explain to me please how we can split an atom, but the height of dental technology involves the dentist chipping at my teeth like he needs a new stone axe?
Dentistry is why I don’t believe in Creationism. Because teeth, which were designed to break down food, rot when exposed to broken down food. If that’s Intelligent Design? I was designed by a fucking idiot.
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