Oral hygiene is an important part of daily life, or at least that’s what I’m told when the process leads me to not only bleed profusely from my prosfusables but also make noises of pain so high pitched they might even shatter a boyband-fan’s well-hardened eardrums.

Of course because I have hopes for a life where I lose my virginity before my 3 month old niece (oh my brother is not going to like that joke) I choose to face these ordeals head on and avoid the glorious ranks of the gap toothed elite.

As luck would have it though I am blessed with some of the most heinously constructed teeth this side of the cosmos….or at least that’s what I’m told by every single dentist I see as they look about my brittle britches with pity that not even someone who’d still sleep with Britney Spears could muster at this point.

It’s not that they look bad (though my shyness means not many see them at all anyway) but rather (as briefly stated in the last paragraph) their fragility. This fragility over time has meant that my teeth are essentially stacks of fillings fused together by SHEER WILL.

Sheer will doesn’t save sheep from getting slaughtered (let’s play catch the pun!) and during my most recent appointment….looks like it didn’t save me either.

As usual after some slightly awkward greetings with all the assistants (who seem to know horrifyingly large amounts about me while all I know about them is they assist in the oral beating I’m about to receive) I found myself in the chair of legends.

I wasn’t quite so terrified at this point as just a few weeks back I had the initial step of Root Canal (root killing and temp filling) and was promised this follow up wouldn’t hurt a bit.

He was right, it didn’t hurt a bit…….it hurt a hell of a lot.

But then why you ask with utter faked concern upon your brow? Why did it hurt so?!?!

Turns out I have what can only be monikered as THE DEVIL’S TOOTH…..or perhaps that was the impression I got as he started sweating severely, nailing metal spokes down it, counting the injections in the dozens and insisting he should have ignored his parents and become a bus driver like he always wanted.

I might also add that it’s never a good sign when you hear him mumbling “Did it have 4 roots last time? I pretty sure it was three, OH WELL” as he shoves that delightful drill back in its right pain-inducing receptacle.

Then as if by some sort of “wedgie of fate” the end result was him actually giving up. I’ve had plenty of dentists complain about the demonic entities present in my teeth but never before did I have one who essentially had a breakdown because of them and who when I thanked for his efforts in the end looked at me with utter sorrow and said “No…No don’t thank me…..really” and finally proceeded to reach for a draw where I can only presume a suicide enhancing firearm was kept.

So the way things stand for the moment is me having yet another temporary filling while I await his next noble attempt at battling the beasts within……though if last time was any indication I’m not really expecting to leave the dental rooms on 2 feet.

Ah the joys of finally having an entry that essentially writes itself. Of course what I just said is proving less and less true with each character I type at this point so I’ll shut up and present you all with:

Disturbingly not one of those is a falsity…..and I can only imagine the look of disappointment on people’s faces when they find not only does this site not contain medical help for their toilet paper eating habits but nay even a trace of a genuine hermaphrodite as far as the eye can see.

P.S.

It appears I was recently reconfessed to and subsequently preredumped moments later. I’m told I’m taking it rather well…..aside from the hysterical crying and playing Tic-tac-toe via self cutting that is.

P.P.S.

The momentary joy in the above PSity was responsible for me finally getting off my ass enough to release another comic, conversely the unfortunate depression following that joy is probably going to be responsible for me not releasing another one for a whileywhile. So what does this mean? You young warriors must quest to find Basjohn female companionship…..for female companionship = more comics!

Additionally I need to stop making PS’s that are longer than the entries themselves.

Throughout the years I’ve tried a great deal to as many REGULAR EARTH HUMAN things as I can stomach, hanging out, movies and even the recent trip to the shooting range that left me a trembling hollow shell of my former self……but it turns out that wasn’t quite enough to prepare me for the violent biodegradable massacre that is……….paintball.

Take a moment to regain your composure if you must, I know just mentioning the word outside of elite circles can cause neurological disorders (ranging from epilepsy all the way to thinking Justin Timberlake has any talent whatsoever) but it was a necessary evil in order to progress our tale onwards.

This “event” (as we shall politely call it) was another invite by D-chan though I did appreciate that he tried to maintain the illusion of me having a choice about whether I attended or not. *Cough* My foundation of bitching established, we can now move on to the actual happeningness.

I arrived at one of our friends homes (since it has a massive plot of land ideal for the art of fake killing each other) and was soon introduced to my would be team mates who were diverse in their lack of any sort of diversity. Notably though there was one fellow who claimed to know me from my early childhood and then proudly stated that just the previous night he beat up an old man in a drunken stupor……because the old man said he was a violent drunk.

Time went on and before I knew it I was equipped and surrounded by grass tall enough that I might inhale it if not careful. I stalked through twitching nervously at the prospect of being shot at while UNLEASHING a girly scream each time a guinea fowl would BURST out of the grass when I got near.

20 minutes of sweating so much my mask resembled an aquarium later and I was the last man on my team standing. I received much praise for this fact later on……but I actually achieved such a mighty accomplishment when I encountered a large yellow spider floating above my head and proceeded to show it I meant business by running very very very far from it…..and everyone else in the process.

We had another game afterwards where I was mortally wounded on my right nipple by a team mate but I quickly put that behind me when I found the real joy of the day…..the true art of kings….the manliest thing since hair sandwiches. I discovered……table tennis.

It was like a scene out of a poorly written shounen sports manga, I had never as much touched a paddle before (well not asexually at least) but when I grasped it with my left hand I felt INFUSED WITH POWER THAT COULD DESTROY WORLDS OR AT LEAST FRAGILE OBJECTS VAGUELY SHAPED LIKE WORLDS. My aura shone and before I knew it I was sending balls WOOOSHING past heads with single swipes and taking on one opponent after another in some sort of seamless TABLE (tennis) TOURNAMENT!

Of course perhaps I should admit that everyone kind of sucked (including me – but my balls were SURROUNDED BY FIGHTING SPIRIT to make up for it) so it was essentially a battle of suckage and then there’s also the fact that after looking up the rules after coming home it appears that everyone was rather confused about how the ball is supposed to bounce.

REGARDLESSNESS! The awesomeosity I demonstrated that day will not soon be forgotten. I fought for my nipple….and avenged he was!

P.S.

Read the comments if you’re wondering what’s happening about that anime entry poll. So far it’s a confusing semi-stalemate though…..which tells me the delightful news that I’m going to piss people off no matter which choice I make.

No not really, but it is about time I caved in regards to not posting anime related entries. The main deterrent is that I have such a diverse (and minute) reader base that I’d hate to alienate any of them, though the plus side updates would be far more regular considering the rate at which I digest the stuff.

Noting the clear and present difficulty in making such a decision I decided I’d leave it up to all of you:

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P.S.

This doesn’t mean no more “normal” entries, but chances are the anime related ones would quickly out pace them.

Sometimes life does unexpected things. Sometimes life turns your perceptions upside down. And sometimes…..sometimes life makes you spend your Valentine’s day with a gay (half-naked) Asian man using a blow-dryer on an open fire while giggling to the opening theme of Evangelion.

Of course things are a little more complicated than they may first seem. The origin of such an event was an invite by my ex-girlfriend (Nata-chin)/now “just friend” (yes yes, I am the only living man to attempt such a feat) to hang out with her brother (Rollo-chan) and the fabulous merry-go-round of rainbows that compromises the rest of her friend base for the day.

Now it won’t be news to…well…anyone, that I dread that day of the year more than I dread listening to a lecture on the virtues of not changing my socks while driving (which is something I know I really should stop doing – but the CRINKLY SENSATION UNDER MY FOOT COMPELLS ME). I’ve spent it single since the get-go and haven’t once received a gift on it that wasn’t from someone with the same last name as me.

This time around wasn’t any different of course, although perhaps the sharp irony of spending it with an EX-girlfriend was enough to interrupt my constant waterworks with a few misplaced school-girl like giggles.

Continuing the “notnewstome” chapter, I’m shy. Shy and anti-social, perhaps one because of the other but I don’t think it’s the order that particularly matters here. That said I was pretty nervous when meeting her friends….although that nervousness came to wear off when I learned their primary topic of conversation was vomit and the ways they’ve been able to expel it while moving.

They were a classy bunch.

I haven’t quite touched on the event’s actual “objective” just yet and that was, to put it in terms my American audience would understand, a barbecue.

The local name is a tad different but you’re not here to learn, you’re here to pretend what I say has some universal significance greater than the length of my penis. Soooo…..we’re going to use the American name.

With that said a Barbecue is a good idea….considering you actually have someone attending who knows how to do it. Unfortunately for us it appeared we lacked this individual.

We did however possess something even greater! And that was the extravagantly homosexual gentleman I mentioned in the intro. What he lacked in barbecue knowledge he made up for with an intense history of pyromania against defenceless toilet rolls!

5 hours, 2 small explosions and several girly screams (from me of course) later we were fed and time went on to inspire a bit of boredom in the group, boredom enough for them to try a game of sorts. This game consisted of writing a word/description/phrase onto a piece of paper, having YOUR OPPONENT lick it and stick it to their heads while then answering minor questions to help them along their path of guessetry.

I don’t win many things in life, usually attributed to my highly perfected mixture of bad luck and sucking at everything, turns out I won that game…..but I suppose it isn’t fair when you counter things like “lollipop” with “paraplegic hamster”.

My vile actions ASSide though, the evening quickly spun onwards and to led me to have minor conversations with a self-racist Indian fellow and one very displacing aroundmywaistgrab from the Gaysian’s (Oh how clever of me!) boyfriend when I made the dreadful mistake of making a self-implicating gay joke with Rollo-chan like I’m used to doing.

The final moments of the night took me out into the darkness where I reluctantly revealed my Santamata symbol to Nata-chin as some sort of very disturbing gift of friendship on my part and simultaneously understood why I have less in-person friends than I have fingers on one of my hands.

When all is said and done I did have a fair deal of fun. The barbecue bit of the well…..barbecue might’ve failed miserably but it was a nice change from my usual routine of cutting myself violently while watching reruns of MASH aaaaand while my romantic intentions may have been sadly ground to (fairy) dust quite some time ago, I do still enjoy “hanging out” with the girlygirl creature.

P.S.
Vday still sucks ass (with result) though.