For 17 years, I've been battling my teeth. Yeah, surprise, surprise, Mischief rebels against modern dentistry... until recently. I've won all the small battles, but the war went to Mr. Tooth. Specifically, Mr. 2nd From The Back Tooth is the newly crowned (literally) champion. He took my pride, my money, my co-pay, and worst of all, my ability to eat crunchy things for up to a month. You SUNNUVABITCH you. *SLAP* *spits on ground (painfully I might add)* How DARE you take my ability to eat Doritos, Tostitos, and thick crusted pizza?!? *fighting tears* I have a feeling about you Mr. 2nd Tooth From The Back. I feel like you are a BITCH. A WHORE. A whore that didn't take my man, but my happiness and ability to enjoy crunchy and extremely cold items. But you know what you can't take away from me Mr. 2nd Tooth From The Back? Huh? VODKA. I don't have to chew vodka. Nope. So YOU bite those apples.
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