Purpose-ly

I just posted most of this on Nessa's blog as a comment, but really? It's post worthy. Especially on a boring day like today, I mean I think the Gilmore Girls is a rerun, so there's more or less nothing to look forward to. Without further ado, the rehashing: 

Orthodontists are pricks. Just thought I'd get that out there. As far as medical practitioners that you're likely to encounter, these people are bar-none the most annoying on Earth. However, they also have little to no power over you. There is nothing finer in life than having a frivilous, inconsequential enemy. I'm recruiting Arch-Nemeses at the moment, but if I could get another orthodontist I'd do it in the space of time it takes a Kentucky Moonshiner to rationalize sleeping with his "purty kusinz."

I fondly remember using the following tactics to make the bloated, redfaced orthodontist with his fat, clumsy fingers seem even more bloated, redfaced and clumsy.

• Eating Skittles. A handful at a time. This will cause your braces to come unglued. I took off the entirety of the top braces this way once, and walked in for my monthly appointment with them in my hand, smiling.
  
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• When it comes time to wear rubberbands, don't.
  
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• Or, if you'd actually like to get some tooth movement going on, wear eight of them at once two days before the appointment. It does the same thing in almost no time at all. Laugh as he tells your brother (who has been wearing his) that he should commit himself to wearing them like his brother has.
  
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• Sneeze while he's working on you. (It was an accident, but damn... it was fantastic.)
  
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• Accidentally break the mold of your teeth they took, later realizing that it was actually someone else's.
  

Ah, those were the days. While I was writing this, I realized something. That having that horrible, fat bastard as an enemy did wonderful things for me. It gave me purpose. Secretly, every prisoner who fights with other convicts is really only looking for his prison-enemy (we're assuming he's already found his bitch). Even God needs Satan (perhaps more than he needs us) because really, would it all be any fun if there was no back-and-forth? I think not. 

So today I set out to find my arch-enemy, hopefully one who is both frivilous and inconsequential, with whom I hope to bicker, use as the default amusement when I'm bored, and advance the floundering plot of this blog.

In the words of a master:

Dr. Byron Orpheus: Oh, it must be dreamy to have a costumed nemesis. Chasing you... wringing his gloved hands in concern of your every move!
Dr. Venture: You're kidding, right?
Dr. Byron Orpheus: ...just seems so romantic.

- Scott