during a year of asceticism, I didn't bother brushing my teeth for weeks on end.
This is sort of the position I'm currently in.
I did manage to go to the dentist earlier this year, though. They kind of looked at me with friendly disgust and were kind enough to wait until they had their hands in my mouth to ask how old I was and what I do for a living, so I could sort of form gibberish that made it sound like I was young and had a job.
Also, they played a Rolling Stones song on the radio there that I'd never heard before and decided I liked (Think it was probably called "Angie," considering he said Angie a lot).
I'm sort of estranged from my teeth, anyway, since my canines push my upper lip out in an an unattractive Guy Pearce fashion that probably doesn't look quite as bad as I imagine it does, but still not great.
