Les Bonnes Choses

People are strange. I'm not sure what the morbid obsession is with the stabbing, but this continues to be a big draw, as I had another blog hit on my now legendary Ides of March post of aught-eight. The next unidentifiable flying hit that I saw came from a google search for -- and I quote -- "sexy elderly".

Look, people, when I talk about going out and taking part in stabbing festivities for the Ides of March, or when I use the phrase "sexy elderly" in my blog, it is not to be taken seriously. This blog is like flypaper - you put it out there, and all kinds of random gets drawn to it.

You know what I do take seriously now? Flossing. Flossing kicks ass. I mean, yeah, I have always brushed the heck out of my teeth, but it used to be that I would save flossing for special occasions -- you know, when you eat pork ribs, or corn on the cob. Whenever I went to the dentist, they would ask, "how often do you floss?" As if they don't know. They just like watching people lie. The last couple of visits to the dentist, I even told the hygienist that she should recommend to her patients to eat more things that usually gets stuck between teeth so that they would floss more often. However, since I started brushing my teeth with Jude, and introducing him to dental floss, it's been a regular deal. Hell, I even floss after soup. I thought they were making crap up when they told me that regular flossing would stop the bleeding that usually occurred when I went to the dentist. I mean, with the way they attack your face with garotte wire and sharp metal picks, how can you not bleed? But no, I think next time, I'll be able to turn down their offer for a transfusion.

Amusing update: This blog entry is the number one hit for Norwegians interested in sexy elderly.