Glark + Omar + others = videogamey.com

It must be digital love.

Li'l Floaty Omie Head on those Scrubs show endings. Also stuff about South Park.

Yes, the XL blogs are ramping up -- probably daily updates from me in the future there.

Well. Maybe Josh Grossberg should have written a better lede.

Fucking OW!

It all started last week when I went to the dentist for the first time in a while. (Don't look at me like that. Like you floss every night. What... you DO? Well la dee da, Mr. Flossyboots!)

So I go in and the news is not unexpected: I need some work done. There are cavity issues. No root canals, but some crowns are going in. Fine. OK. I've got insurance, so, no big.

Price WITH insurance: $1,150.

After I freaked out a little at those numbers (What the fuck kind of insurance do I have, the Gummy Rottentooth Bronze HMO plan?), I agreed to not run down to Mexico and have it done cheaply there. Fine. Let's do this. Crowns. My teeth. Let's get this shit over with.

I go in today and they start jamming needles in my mouth. And they hurt. Badly. I've gotten anaesthetic in the mouth before, but this was worse than usual. It didn't help my state of mind that the dentist's office is in a shady area, behind a bunch of other buildings, with a non-descript door, no windows and equipment that looks like it came from the Falcon Crest-era.

Without trying to be a dick patient, I squirm. "This will numb you. Is that all right?" "Yeah, but it hurts," I say, plaintively. Really, it did. And I've been through wisdom teeth removals, braces and fillings.

"It's the smallest needle we have," she says. That's supposed to make me feel better. That they didn't go with the #5 Elephant Stabber.

She tries again, jamming the needle repeatedly in several gum areas. Stuff starts to feel puffy and numb. They get down to drilling for the crown. OW. Pain.

She stops and goes back for the needle again. More jabbing. It doesn't hurt as much this time.

Back to drilling. Ow, ow OW!

In one sensitive area, I kept feeling a squirmy sensation, like ice-cold water on fillings. So the dentist stopped again to put more anaesthetic.

This happened four times. She told me she'd tried three different kinds of anaesthesia and none of them were working. "You shouldn't feel anything right now," she said. And except for the oogy feeling when she drilled in that one tiny spot, she was right. My cheeks were huge and I was a drooling, inarticulate pincushion about the mouth.

The dentist told me she had no idea what was going on. She started asking about my allergy medicine, figuring maybe I have some sort of drug-based resistance to the sweet numbing nectars she was injecting. She wondered aloud if maybe I had a tooth fracture that had gone all the way to the root. "Wouldn't the X-ray have picked that up?" I mumbled in semi-English. No. No it wouldn't. that's how amazing their X-ray technology is.

I told her it felt weird, but didn't particularly hurt that much, so she should just fire away and get on with it rather than worry about my foot spasms. She did so, we got through it, and I now have a temporary silver crown on my molar that makes me look like a James Bond villain from the side.

"No, Mr. Bond. I expect you to... watch me masticate. Gwom. Chomp chomp glomp. Ow."

I also can't each anything really chewy, or the temporary will fall right off. They told me to come right back in if that happens, and to apply Polydent in the meantime. They fully expect this to happen; they don't at all trust that I can control what side of the mouth I eat with or that I won't go straight for the peanut brittle when I get home. They think I'm a Jolly Rancher away from getting right back in that chair.

My mouth is starting to hurt now here at my desk at work, and I can't really open it very wide or feel much of anything on the right side. I'm slurring my speech and my bottom lip is hanging askew. I tried to eat a baked potato and cottage cheese for lunch, but I can't really taste it and it feels weird having things other than my own tongue in my mouth right now.

Stuff tastes like metal.

My lips are sad and stupid.

Oh, and guess what -- I get to go back and do it all again in three weeks.

Teeth rock, kids!

Another fake news story makes it into print, this time about seals being hunted in Canada. What, no celebrities? Disappointing.

Anyway, what tipped alert readers off to the story's falsehood was its headline: "Hunters attack these, like, baby seals or something? In Newfoundland... Mexico?"

One of my bosses (or as we'd say in Spanish, "El jefe mero-mero") got to introduce the president to a group of journalists today. Here's what he had to say about it.

Handing the laptop with this entry to my wife:

Rebecca: You wrote about that!?

Omar: Eeee...yeah.

Rebecca: You forgot to mention that I watched Saturday Night Live without you, too.

Omar: Dammit! Betrayal!

My review of Jay-Z's concert movie/DVD "Fade to Black" is up at austin360.com. It inspired me to acquire "The Black Album" right after I watched it, so Jay's definitely doing something right.

The Space Monkeys! return today with a brand-new strip, ferocious in its single-mindedness to entertain and amuse. It's not some multi-part storyline or part of an ongoing joke about hot dogs. It's merely a humble comic, standing alone on the prairie, concerned only with tickling your fancy.

Your fancy smells, by the way.

Over on yonder XL Blog, Li'l Floaty Omie Head knocks about on the intra-spousal TiVo politics behind together TV-watching time. The entry is notable not just for its brevity but for its peek into the dark, teaty underbelly of household relations. If you are married, I highly suggest you turn off the TV once in a while and engage in anything intra-spousal yourselves.

I get the feeling that some of the people proposing cat hunting in Wisconsin must have had experiences similar to everyone I know in relation to my own cat, Cosa. In that case, I can't really blame them for wanting to hunt down these wild, feral, mean-tempered and dangerous creatures.

But if the cats they've met are anything like Diego and Rico, then they're just bastard, bastard people.

Edited to add: Best by-product of this story: The Web site Dontshootthecat.com.

The Arkansas trip was pretty coolbutsthe busz.zbs slleep no sleeepe teiryred.

My review of the PS2 game God of War is up at austin360.com.

I also wrote a short XL blog thing about Boyd Vance, who died over the weekend. He was badass, and we in Austin (and I'm sure many beyond our city limits) will miss him.

In about two hours, I'm flying to Arkansas for an LCP gig.

Why Arkansas? Nobody's really explained that one to me yet, but I know it's a Sunday evening show in Little Rock. What venue? Time? Not sure, either. I just know I'm getting on a plane soon to be picked up by my homies (who drove up yesterday) and that we all drive back together overnight.

Last night was the wedding of one of my closest friends. It was an amazing celebration, one I would never have missed, and one where leaving early was not an option (me and my wife, we don't roll like that). So we ate, a lot, and danced, quite a bit, and smooched even, a little, and just had an amazing time. We got back home about 2, I finished packing my stuff for the gig, showered, and went to bed about 3:15.

It's 6:35 a.m. now.

I'm not dreaming this, right?