License to Floss

I saw “Skyfall” this afternoon. It was a dream come true, really. I was there alone, so I could gorge on popcorn and Sour Patch Kids in the dark while watching the suave Englishman create cinematic carnage. Good stuff, all the way around.

The highlight of the movie was the bad guy, as it often is. Javier Bardem makes a really nasty villain and I think he should get another Oscar for his portrayal of a rogue MI6 agent wreaking havoc on Bond, “M” and the rest.

I suffered some wounds, too. The basketball sized bucket of popcorn that I ate caused gingival trauma on a blockbuster level. It happens every time I eat movie popcorn. And I do it every time I see a movie. You’d think I might learn, but I don’t. By the time I made it to the car I had discovered no less than 4 separate popcorn husks burrowing into my gums like the henchmen of a Bond villain.

Instead of pulling out a Walther PPK (customized to my palm print, no less) I whipped out my mint flavored waxed floss. I flushed out the bad guys in a matter of seconds. They never had a chance. You see, I have a very particular set of skills. And with the right tools, I’m very dangerous.

I’m like James Bond that way. James Bond with floss.