Comments on: Glückspilz

By: dwayne wangleford

dwayne wangleford — Fri, 23 Jul 2010 13:13:39 +0000

When I visit my first, I’ll let you know.

By: Marga

Marga — Fri, 23 Jul 2010 12:11:13 +0000

In my teens when I had to take a seat to that kind of chairs I always put my concentration to the orthodontists bushy eyebrows. That took away the pain and time flew by while waiting for the redeeming “We are done”.

Do all orthodontists need to have a bad breath? Like every gynaecologist has cold fingers? Is that something mentioned in job ads?

By: dwayne wangleford

dwayne wangleford — Fri, 23 Jul 2010 11:37:38 +0000

Ah yes, the intense look of concentration, of fixation, of total subordination to the task at hand.

When I was in my teens, my orthodontist would put me in the chair, swing one of those illuminated mirrors over my head, and stare into my mouth. The whole time he would look so scarily intense and also let his tongue hang out of his mouth. Not a pretty sight from down below for a 13-year-old, especially when his breath smelled like week-old tortilla chips.

Still, my teeth are now straight, so who’s complaining?

By: Marga

Marga — Fri, 23 Jul 2010 09:52:00 +0000

Like everything It always depends on the angle from where you see something. No matter it is something very precious and important or just the way you earn your daily coffee and bagle with. Or both.

In my opinion the “unlucky expression” upon his face was because he was really concentrated while working. This can be a sign of passion or effort too, don’t you think?

BTW: Thank you for your comment. That was EXACTLY the thought I wanted to cause.

By: dwayne wangleford

dwayne wangleford — Thu, 22 Jul 2010 18:27:25 +0000

Does a butcher feel like a big juicy steak when he goes home at the end of the day? Is a prostitute always “in the mood”? And does a computer geek like me really still need to be typing away at a keyboard after having spent all of his working day doing the same thing? Lesson: If you love something – truly love it – don’t study it and don’t make it your main source of income.

I had a good friend who was a music journalist in a past life. He got sent about 5-7 new CDs every single day. Couldn’t keep it. They just kept flying through his mailbox. All of a sudden, a switch flipped. This wasn’t music anymore. It was product, product, product. And it never stopped. He couldn’t listen to anything anymore. It was just a commodity; it meant nothing anymore.

Staring at ass and tits all day – after all, one of man’s greatest hobbies (and we do it well) would and should seriously deprive you of some of those basic little pleasures life throws your way from time to time. Even a snaky, stolen glance on the subway would soon become boring.