Get out of my mouth.

I'm not really a mouthwash person.

Last week I went to the dentist. The last time I sat in The Chair was roughly ten years ago. There is nothing pleasant about going to the dentist. Sure, their services are in desperate need, but so are morticians.

My visit started off with delightful news: I found out I need oral surgery to remove my wisdom teeth. The dentist won't touch one of the little bastards who has decided to grow away from the rest of my teeth, so that its roots overlap with those who have been living comfortably in my mouth for over twenty years. The newbies always ruin everything.

Anyway, I was subjected to a painful cleaning (my gums are sensitive at the moment) which involved being suspended upside down while the hygienist blasts the yellow veneer from my teeth with hot water. I remember accidentally stabbing my gums with a toothpick - getting a "cleaning" is a close approximation. I was told that I needed another cleaning this week. Wonderful.

Now I have to use mouthwash. I hate mouthwash. That shit burns.

I am bitchy today.