Hygiene Update

SOOOO.... you want to know how it's going right?  Well, my mouth is a little like the Taj Mahal these days.  So old, and yet so clean and sacred.  Wonderful. The spirituality of tongue-scraping is the nearest I have been to Nirvana, except when I saw them back in '93.  There's still gunk, but at least that gunk is now in the sink and not in my mouth.
To all past lovers and that one guy I kissed on Halloween: sorry that my mouth used to be a festering sespool of germ and funk. I apologize for kissing you with my unclean tongue, and most especially after it had been you-know-where.  If you would like to experience that again, only this time with the freshness of a spring morning, give me a call, shoot me and email, text me, find me on facebook, hit my myspace page, ring my doorbell, call my work, post a missed connection, or just hang out at Bean Bag.  One way or another you'll find me... you always do. 

Dental Hygiene

Hey thanks to the people who are following my blog!  You know you are part of an elite group of very special people.  Kind of like that old MTVnews bit... "You hear it. First. dunduhduhdunduh."  YEAH! 
So I got my teeth cleaned which was GREAT, but now I'm supposed to not only brush and floss everyday (which of course I do) but also scrape my tongue (and believe me there was some sludge on that badboy) and also use a "gum stimulator" on a daily basis.  Anyone who's ever seen me get ready for bed knows it takes approximately 10 minutes to go through the whole routine.  Now it's going to take 15.  Jesus H.  All this to just to undoubtedly need oral surgery at some future date.  But at least my breath will be fresher.  And I might even let el dentirino whiten the pearlies.  Any advice on that?  Good idea, bad idea, horrifying stories to sway me off of chemical bleaching?

ps. note to Jesse Lee: in the last post when I said I "forgot" about you, I only meant in a temporary sense I was distracted.  You are my precious moments friend and I enjoyed every minute of watching you attempt to get hit by a car while on my bicycle.

In Italian, piano means soft and slow

Ahhhhhh, the weekend.  It was fun, and interesting, and as usual I had a lot of stuff to think about.  Last night was Edith's birthday (I love this girl) so we did some karaoke.  I am SO glad that no one I know goes to this bar because I can't sing karaoke worth a damn.  People would never take me seriously if they met me at a karaoke bar.  Not to mention that it requires absolute beligerence.
So I'm standing out front of the bar, 4-drinks-in-2-hours deep, talking to my good buddy Jesse Lee.  He's popping wheelies on my bicycle, which is hilarious to me, and we're shooting the shit having a blast.  Well, who should come swaggering past but my old teacher, M.Parsons.  I forgot Jesse was even there.  I still love this guy, in a person-to-person way, where my heart gets all goosebumped just looking at him.  Being sauced like I was, I think I hit on him (oops) and then confessed that I can't play the piano without thinking about him and that for awhile I was f-ed up over it.  ahhhhh truth serum.  It was a sad affair because I was having so much fun but went home feeling kind of sad and lonely. 
The question at this point is: why not show people how much you care?  It's really hard to do, but if we practiced it more, imagine all the love people could have in their lives.  Often times I am honest and tell people the truth.  Maybe it's the recession, but I just seem to get poor returns on that investment.  That's ok but I find myself wondering... is love too intense?  Is feeling a turn off? 

Love IS the answer, and I wouldn't change that if I could. 

Oh Beatles...

Rulebook

New Rule: When it's someone's birthday and they choose to do karaoke at The Mint, you should probably go and sing a song for the birthday person. It's embarrassing, yes, but also amazing when you can get 10 people on stage singing and dancing to the Beatles Birthday song like its New Years Eve 1999.