I thought I would share the horribly embarassing story of getting my wisdom teeth taken out. Why is it embarassing you may ask? Well for several reasons.
The story began early during my college career and had discovered that my wisdom teeth were being a gang of unruly assholes and messing up the rest of my teeth, so out they had to go. An appointment was scheduled and I was brought to the orthodontist to have them taken out.
I was sat down in a chair and was told that I would be getting a shot that would knock me out completely during the procedure, and thank Christ for that as even if I couldn't feel any pain, it would still be the most horrible thing in the world to have to be awake to people ripping out chunks of your head while hitting on the hot nurses.
Anyway, I was given the shot and was told to count backward from 100 which I then began to do. I was then informed that I would start to itch violently before I passed out as I continued counting. Of course they didn't exactly tell me where. Now I don't know if this is common, but the only place that itched on my body happened to be my crotch. And I'm talking VERY itchy, apparently the shot also gave me crabs and didn't even buy dinner first.
So the last thing I remember before passing out into unconciousness was violently scratching my crotch over my jeans with three nurses standing around me. Really, I couldn't get any more suave.
So the procedure went well and I woke up a few hours later with the doctor and my parents near me. He said that while the operation was successful, something odd had happened during the procedure. While the doctor and nurses' backs were turned to me, I apparently stood up from my chair, with all the equipment and gauze in my mouth, and proceeded to try and leave the office.
Now I can't imagine what I had looked like but I think it was akin to something like this:
The moral of the story? Your wisdom teeth are the real cause of Night of the Living Dead. Case closed.