A scientist? No, you're definitely a DENTIST. I could tell from the stupid smile on your face.

Would you trust anybody in the medical profession telling you that 'if you see blood, keep going'. No? I don't think you would. But that's exactly what the dentist said to me.

And it was a WOMAN dentist. A SCOUSER WOMAN dentist. And it wasn't even a dentist. A SCOUSER WOMAN HYGEINIST!

Not to be sexist, or anti scouser. Please don't hurt me.

Anyway, what is a hygeinist? Just like a dentist with a toothbrush. Except the toothbrush is covered with powdery shit that makes your mouth feel like you've eaten half the sodding sahara desert. Scorpions included.

Anyway, yeah. I went to Cassie's house after the dentist, and fell off her sofa. I have this random metal button on the back of my trousers (very badly designed, if you ask me) and I landed right onto that. Hurts like a bugger, and I have a red circle on the bottom of my spine. Sodding sod.



Anyway. Can we be serious for today? This week has caused for the splitting up of two ICONS of our modern age, which I feel should be subtely remembered seperately. But I can't be bothered to make another two posts, so instead they will be remembered together at the bottom of a post about the dentist:



1: Brad and Jen. The wonder couple have split up. Now, apparently this has made the most optimistic of the female population happy. Because, yeah, you ALL have a chance with Brad. The depressing thing is, we KNOW that both of them are going to remarry about 6 times each then die alone and unloved, hopefully dying of a hilarious disease/drug addiction. Deary deary me.



2: Busted. *Wipes away a tear* It's true, you don't know WHAT you've got until its gone. Kind of like cancer. Actually, with cancer you don't know what you've got until your penis falls off, but still. THE MAGIC THREE HAVE SPLIT UP! Yes, we will all miss the antics of Charlie, Matt and, uh, the other one, playing so many unforgettable hits as 'Thunderbirds' and, err... yeah. But we can be sure that their musical style will stretch long into the millenia. The torch has been passed onto the next savior of music: McFly. Those lad's aint splittin up any time soon.

Don't cry, Roxy. Here, take my tissue. It has ink on it.



OOH, one more thing: Neighbours update.

Our handsome young lad (BOYD, cunningly named to emphasise his 'boy'ish nature. You gods, you, Neighbours writers) is TRAPPED UP A TREE! With an angry dog underneath him. And evil, evil boys throwing buns at him. No, not a typo. Buns. High five.

Has nobody noticed that in Neighbours, all the evil fellow either have pierced noses or drink alchohol. ITS AUSTRALIA! I mean, you might as well give the troublemakers hats with corks on them and boomerangs.

AND THAT REMINDS ME. If Neighbours is so bloody Australian, where are all the kangaroos? And dangerous snakes? AND CROCODILE HUNTERS... WHERE THE FUCK ARE ALL THE CROCODILE HUNTERS?

I demand that somebody be eaten by a crocodile. Toodles.



Zombie killin' in Oz: Crocodile!