Eighteen shots.

Eighteen! Five of them directly into the base of the mangled tooth beneath the temporary crown. Three hours. For seating a crown, which should have taken maybe half an hour and no anesthesia. My teeth totally suck.

Posted by wordsmith


I envy y’all’s ability to drink and not suffer!

Well I know where I’m going on my next vacation. 😉

Mrs. Andi, this reminds me. In Norman, there’s a place called La Luna that serves these wicked good strawberry margarita-y swirls. I don’t know what all is in them, but they taste really good, and boy, it’s not a time to drive after that. I had one and was having trouble walking and talking normally afterward. If I don’t drink the bottom inch or so, it’s much more manageable.

100 proof cinnamon schnapps. It’s my favorite shooter. I don’t have “oh, God I need a drink” moments very often. When I do I want them to count, and taste good.

It was easy to count the initial ten backwards because I could remember where they went. Pfblthttt.

What’s Hot 100?

If you didn’t start counting until you got to ten, how did you get to ten?

I was thinking Hot 100, but to each their own poison. 😉

Perhaps I shall pick up a bottle of John Jameson’s finest, and have eighteen shots of that. 😉

Or, eighteen shots of liquor, at that point. I suggest something fruity or Godiva chocolate liqueur, because I have the tastes of a Tri-Delt. 😉

I think that afternoon needs to be followed up by 18 more shots, or at least one good stiff drink. Good lord, I think at that point I’d just start pulling them all myself.

I started counting when they passed ten, because I couldn’t believe that even MY teeth needed more than that. Fankoo.

Thank goodness for nukable instant mac and cheese.

What a wonderful afternoon you’ve had! 😉 Eighteen shots, good god. Did you count them or something? That’s miserable, you have my sympathies.

Leave a Reply