What you get when you ask a pointed question


One day, I’ll learn how to
get a head in life.
This is what I get for
trying to ask a
pointed question.

Ever have one of those dreams where you fork over $1 to enter a lottery for a house

…and win?

It sounds good–until you find that only 3 people entered it, you didn’t read the fine print, and now you’re stuck with a mortgage for a house that you didn’t really need.

No–it doesn’t help that the first $3 has been paid. I already have a house I can’t afford. It’s called my body.

I should know better than to ask God to answer a question through my dreams. What was the question you might ask (if you were remotely interested in the answer)?

Will I ever learn to keep my mouth shut?

Yesterday morning, I spent 3 hours at the dental school where I had to have local anesthetic on the left side of my mouth to have my teeth cleaned. They use a new technique that requires a lot of water. I was holding a suction tube that did nothing to keep out the water that was pouring around my neck, soaking my back and flying up my nose, wondering, ‘Is this where Guantanamo got the idea for water boarding?’

So, when I got a break because the water ran out of this mini pressure washer I said, “All I need is some soap and I can take a bath.”

The silence was deafening.

My teeth are so clean that my tongue doesn’t recognize them any longer. I think my sinuses were cleaned out, too.

So, as I type a blog about something that no one in their right mind wanted to know, I guess I did get the answer to my question.

Will I ever learn to keep my mouth shut?

Obviously not.