Seriously, having teeth the color of Flex Seal Ultra Brite White, “Amazing!!!” not getting it. I am thinking if I ever get veneers, I am demanding a shade of off-white. Maybe with a chip, and a fledgling cavity, a little filling, to show I don’t think I am perfect. After all, look up the word veneer, it means:
a way of behaving or appearing that gives other people a false idea of your true feelings or situation
So, overcompensation is it, one more stereotypical guy in the ridiculous Hummer, flashing a smile that scorches any retinas unlucky enough to be in the gleam. I feel bad for such unfortunates, the blinded and blinder, a twisted collision of destiny run wild.
Let’s see, in my imagination, I am having trouble choosing between Apple Core, Moon Mist, and Chocolate Froth, from the Behr color palette, there’s a job, looking at shades of paint and naming them. Seriously think I could compete there. Crocodile Nails, not to be confused with Krokodil Flesh, very different shades of abuse there. I digress, but I wonder if every paint shade namer starts off working at Crayola, where shades are limited. Princess pink, pine green, that shit is child’s play, compared to Stripper Tears (a hard to replicate shade of gray in case your imagination is not working), Fickle Cucumber Wash, and Fevered Rage.
Back to the veneer thing.
It also means:
a superficial or deceptively attractive appearance, display, or effect
Let me try to avoid random obloquy, trying to admit when I am wrong and all that, promptly, so yeah, that was Webster’s word of the day, and I didn’t know I engaged in that all the time, even though vituperation suits me, fluent in my sustained abuse, self-vituperated is indeed a word…Nope, I am invective, since I actually put it out there in public, a verbal lambasting of character unseen since the days of people enduring blowhards on Fox News went from the slogan, “Completely Biased,” which was a step in the right direction from “If you don’t love Jesus, we hate you, you liberal communist dirtbag.” While some might argue the obvious contradiction of loving Jesus and hating another human being, since he preached that love God, love your neighbor thing, talks about the wisdom and grace gained from loving one’s enemies, etc., I always how, “You’re wrong, you’re stupid” became acceptable retorts in debate.
Who am I though, just wandering, wondering mental drifter, struck by at least 100 topics I find funny in a given day, lucky to remember one. I need a dictophone. Is that a word? At least something highly topical has been touched on in this post, which is how utterly ridiculous pure white teeth are. That people even say shit like, “Check out my veneers,” is, while kind in a sense of warning, ridiculous, since they might as well be saying, “Check out my deceptively attractive cover up of my wretched low level of self-esteem.”
And what of the Brits, and their Pismo Dunes, Bavarian Kreme, and Fervent Brass shades of brownish-yellows? They confidently proceed through the world, waving their pounds sterling in the face of the euro, a charismatic (also a Behr shade of brown) fuck you to the much theorized alien planted idea of one world currency. This is why I watch Monty Python and like James Bond. If you have anything different to say, you’re wrong. Period.
Think I would get black veneers, just to cause a contradiction, something hiding a better condition. Maybe go tope, whoops, wrong spelling on that one. Not drinking to excess or wanting my oral lies to be a shade of a “small, slender cosmopolitan shark.” Aren’t most cosmopolitans slender, and fashionable? Who knew misspelling words and hitting Webster’s online could sustain a blog about absolutely nothing? This guy.
The word I was looking for was taupe, but was going to settle for cerise and a wild tale of violence, when I remembered how to spell brownish gray. Is anyone following along? I have a call in to a myopic airbrush artist, hoping he can varnish awesome pictures on my dental façade. So far, I know I want a Steelers logo, maybe the Pearl Jam stick figure, George Washington, the eye of Ra, Rihanna, maybe a beach scene on the bottom row, not sure…probably kick it around for hours, decisions, decisions, when at the light on Atlantic, I see this dude, picking his teeth, using his rearview, can’t be sure if it was a sunbeam or extreme vanity that got me, but everything is double vision, on a good day I could make that a plus, like I can see into depths no one else can, yet today I am thankful I am walking home, with a head held high, no need for false-esteem builders, because who gives a shit?
Really, it’s not about the size of your engine, the expense of your belt, the name on your shoes, or the number of homes you divide your time and wives amongst. You’re still an ass hole. Maybe more so, because all that bullshit doesn’t mean a bit to me, I chased every dream in the book, fulfilled a fairy tale that ended up as Grimm’s, then chose to run away from the only truth that is around.
Be at peace with life, gain that from compassion. Unless they come bearing Chiclet smiles and false reflections, then it’s okay to ditch them with a heartfelt, “I’m sorry.” It’s still showing compassion if you leave rather than go all invective on their fake ass right?
Thus concludes 940 words of tapioca whimsy hued prose.