You're Gonna Go Home Missin' a Couple of . . . Teeth

And be doped to the gills, such that your pupils are the size of saucers, and you're aimlessly wandering around looking for . . . something . . . and who are you, again?

"Yo, bitch, let me out. There are some swirly
lights over there I need to, like, feel."

It seems cruel, and not just to her. If you all have a time machine such that I can skip past the next three days or so, I'd be much obliged. What kills me about this is that I expected this to be a one-shot, miserable mass tooth-yanking that would cure all future problems. However, they only pulled 4 teeth, and I'm told I need to brush the rest of them daily. Jesus.

More soothingly . . . bunny!

This is Abelard VI. He feasts on my garden and thinks I'm a right good neighbor for sharing.