We here at FICE love all things toothy.... Graffiti, grills, Kult Zombie fliks, Land Sharks and SHARK WEEK, Tooth Faeries, killer kuts, chiks with fangs down for a little backseat vampire role play...You get the picture.
So of course we love the Word of Mouth hoodie from DIM MAK and Nikole for sportin shit fresh...!
I, however do say.... FUCK THE DENTIST!
Kudo's 1986!
So of course we love the Word of Mouth hoodie from DIM MAK and Nikole for sportin shit fresh...!
I, however do say.... FUCK THE DENTIST!Kudo's 1986!
I believe this to be the single most significant moment in defining how I felt about the dentist as a child!
Why is it that while Feeling Oh! So! demure your nails digging deep impressions into the vinyl armchair, in what can only be described as
a Maxi pad lining around your little neck, the soft ambiance of heavymetal grinding and scrape coring away of some poor suckers root in the row to your right..
Does some assistant tell you to relax and say Ahhhh!.
Does that seem appropriate?
Everytime we paid this joint a visit, the same thing....
Kimmy shrieking from the chair on the other side of the partition that separates us. The flurry of assistants dealing clouds of "purple" tinted nitrous oxide in an attempt to sedate her fears.
My anticipation of escape...
You run out said chair to the "pirates treasure chest" in search of something, anything to wipe away the bad memories of sour fluoride and senior citizen breath. Only to discover that your grand treasure choices are between G.I. Joes cheap ass step brother with his knee caps melted together, a myriad of weird obscure thingamabobs & doohickeys or gratuitous lollipops that inevitably send your ass right back to that demon chair!
Yeah Boy!
Why is it that while Feeling Oh! So! demure your nails digging deep impressions into the vinyl armchair, in what can only be described as
a Maxi pad lining around your little neck, the soft ambiance of heavymetal grinding and scrape coring away of some poor suckers root in the row to your right..
Does some assistant tell you to relax and say Ahhhh!.
Does that seem appropriate?
Everytime we paid this joint a visit, the same thing....
Kimmy shrieking from the chair on the other side of the partition that separates us. The flurry of assistants dealing clouds of "purple" tinted nitrous oxide in an attempt to sedate her fears.
My anticipation of escape...
You run out said chair to the "pirates treasure chest" in search of something, anything to wipe away the bad memories of sour fluoride and senior citizen breath. Only to discover that your grand treasure choices are between G.I. Joes cheap ass step brother with his knee caps melted together, a myriad of weird obscure thingamabobs & doohickeys or gratuitous lollipops that inevitably send your ass right back to that demon chair!
I say FUCK THE DENTIST!
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