Is that my teeth or a dead animal?
By: Eamonn Rockwell
Issue date: 4/13/07 Section: Ed-Op
Originally published: 4/13/07 at 4:19 AM EST
Last update: 4/13/07 at 4:18 AM EST
Originally published: 4/13/07 at 4:19 AM EST
Last update: 4/13/07 at 4:18 AM EST
I'm positive that the principle cause of this tooth-color fiasco is my massive consumption of Diet Coke. Not only is it the most delicious way to get cancer, but now it apparently makes my teeth more yellow than Neville Chamberlain at a Hitler rally. My assumption was that the lack of sugar in the soda, while not necessarily healthy, would at least not damage my teeth more than regular soda would. Never in my life have I been more wrong, except for that time where I wrote something that was obviously a joke and assumed that anyone who read the article would understand that it was a joke. But instead some old crone living at home with her numerous cats couldn't understand it due to a lack of education and the fact that she went off her meds, so she decided to use the internet to voice both her displeasure for me and her political opinions that were taken from the cover of Newsweek.
While my teeth may be a dark shade of yellow which I'm going to market as the paint color "Pretentious Autumn", I can't give up my precious caffeine source for the same reason you can't just go cold-turkey when trying to stop shooting up smack in a bathroom stall. The shock of withdrawal would kill me in a heartbeat. The irony in all this is that I really do brush and floss and do all that other stuff the correct amount of times each day. It's because of that fact that makes me wonder what kind of pitiless god would allow this to happen to me; a middle-class American.
The yellowness of my teeth cannot be exaggerated, and it is because of this lack of ability to exaggerate that I must take drastic measures. It has become apparent that brushing, flossing and using bleach intended for prisoners' laundry is not enough, so to survive I will have to create extra steps and then take them. Like the war on terror, the war on ugly is a costly and ceaseless battle against the evils of the world. While brave soldiers such as Mary Kaye and Coco Chanel have won numerous battles, the enemy is always there and continues to multiply at an alarming rate. Ugliness has a domino effect, in that if my teeth goes, so does my face, then the hair and then it's all a drunken downhill slide from there and before you know it I'm passed out on a sidewalk covered in my own urine and reeking of Night Train Express.
Life is difficult, and I can accept this fact even though I would rather have my legs eaten off by a shark than admit it. The main difficulty in my life is them Duke Boys running illegal moonshine, which I suspect is made by that old coot Jesse Duke, all across Hazzard County and beyond while continually foiling my schemes and making a fool out of my close friend Sheriff Coltrane. But we must face up to these difficulties and blitzkrieg them as soon as possible.
I am prepared to replace my current teeth with stain-proof vampire fangs if that's what it takes to have clean teeth. Plus I could probably bite and kill anyone who opposes me, which would be useful. But as I look out on the horizon, the storm of conflict is forming, and as a man I must face up to the challenge or go back to playing with my dollies.
Eamonn Rockwell is a freshman majoring in communications. He can be reached through ed-op@thetriangle.org
While my teeth may be a dark shade of yellow which I'm going to market as the paint color "Pretentious Autumn", I can't give up my precious caffeine source for the same reason you can't just go cold-turkey when trying to stop shooting up smack in a bathroom stall. The shock of withdrawal would kill me in a heartbeat. The irony in all this is that I really do brush and floss and do all that other stuff the correct amount of times each day. It's because of that fact that makes me wonder what kind of pitiless god would allow this to happen to me; a middle-class American.
The yellowness of my teeth cannot be exaggerated, and it is because of this lack of ability to exaggerate that I must take drastic measures. It has become apparent that brushing, flossing and using bleach intended for prisoners' laundry is not enough, so to survive I will have to create extra steps and then take them. Like the war on terror, the war on ugly is a costly and ceaseless battle against the evils of the world. While brave soldiers such as Mary Kaye and Coco Chanel have won numerous battles, the enemy is always there and continues to multiply at an alarming rate. Ugliness has a domino effect, in that if my teeth goes, so does my face, then the hair and then it's all a drunken downhill slide from there and before you know it I'm passed out on a sidewalk covered in my own urine and reeking of Night Train Express.
Life is difficult, and I can accept this fact even though I would rather have my legs eaten off by a shark than admit it. The main difficulty in my life is them Duke Boys running illegal moonshine, which I suspect is made by that old coot Jesse Duke, all across Hazzard County and beyond while continually foiling my schemes and making a fool out of my close friend Sheriff Coltrane. But we must face up to these difficulties and blitzkrieg them as soon as possible.
I am prepared to replace my current teeth with stain-proof vampire fangs if that's what it takes to have clean teeth. Plus I could probably bite and kill anyone who opposes me, which would be useful. But as I look out on the horizon, the storm of conflict is forming, and as a man I must face up to the challenge or go back to playing with my dollies.
Eamonn Rockwell is a freshman majoring in communications. He can be reached through ed-op@thetriangle.org
