#Veneers Tulsa

[design-and-html]

Exterior Brick

Inspiration for a mid-sized timeless red two-story brick exterior home remodel with a hip roof

[benswift-eyeskull]

Traditional Exterior - Brick Inspiration for a mid-sized, hip-roofed, two-story home with a timeless red brick exterior.

[uticadental]

Are you unhappy with your smile? 

Do stained, chipped or misaligned teeth make you self-conscious? A smile makeover can be a game-changer and dental veneers are an excellent option to achieve that perfect Hollywood-worthy grin. But where do you start? With so much information out there, it can be overwhelming. Fear not! In this ultimate guide to smile makeovers with dental veneers, we will cover everything from the benefits of veneers to the procedure itself and aftercare. So get ready to transform your smile and boost your confidence!

[beamdentalba]

Beam Dental

URL:

Keywords:

broken arrow root canals & extractions, cosmetic dentistry, crowns and bridges, dental veneers, emergency dentistry, general dentistry and preventative care, best dentist in broken arrow, broken arrow dentists, broken arrow endodontics

Description:

At Beam Dental, our mission is to change the way you think about dentistry. Our team, led by Dr. Shuhad Shambille, is dedicated to providing exceptional care to patients of all ages in Broken Arrow and the surrounding Tulsa metro area. From routine cleanings to advanced procedures, we're here to help you achieve a healthy, beautiful smile. Come visit us and discover the beaming experience for yourself.

Owner Name:

Dr. Shambille

Full Address:

1144 N 38th St

Broken Arrow, OK

74014

Phone:

918-994-0028

Business Email:

office@beamdentalba.com

Operating Hours:

Monday 10 AM–7 PM   Tuesday-Wednesday-Thursday 8 AM–4 PM

Video URL:

Social Media Links;

[fennerjack1]

Solid Brick vs Brick Veneer: What are their Differences?

One of the most attractive and popular ways of constructing a home is through brick masonry construction. It provides several advantages such as durability, strength, weather and fire resistance, and low maintenance that can benefit you in the long run. These are probably some of the reasons why masonry construction in Tulsa, OK is sought after.

There are two types of brick masonry that are always being compared as to which is better. These are called solid brick and brick veneer masonry. Solid brick or also called solid masonry consists of two layers of brick walls. While brick veneer, on the other hand, has only one layer of brick walls. Brick veneer is known to be an overlay or facing of bricks.

[createthemovementseo-blog]

Have the Smile You Have Always Wanted. Advancement in Dentistry allows you to smile openly and feel confident and young. Explore our Cosmetic Procedures and work your way towards a healthier smile. Contact Origin Dental Wellness for a free initial consultation. 

[qqueenofhades]

I'm listening to the History on Fire podcast by Daniele Bolelli which is FANTASTIC for many reasons, but especially notable for me as an American is listening to American history as taught by a European who doesn't flinch from calling a spade a spade or Woodrow Wilson a white supremacist. It's startling and refreshing to not have that texas schoolboard whitewashed veneer applied to some of the Really Bad Shit done by Americans in our history.

Okay but like.... Woodrow Wilson was a white supremacist, we know this, right?

Princeton University has now taken his name off their school of international affairs, which frankly I was not expecting them to do, because when this issue first arose in 2015, they did the usual hemming and hawing about how he had contributed to the nation, etc. But as noted when this protest first arose, Woodrow Wilson was super racist you guys. Aside from admiringly screening the KKK propaganda film Birth of a Nation in the White House in 1915, he was actually quoted in it (as noted in the link above). He resegregated the US civil service and threw civil rights leader Marcus Trotter out of the White House because “[Trotter’s] tone offends me.” He had managed to win the black vote in 1912 with vague promises to make things better, and then.... did not do that. His administration was also heavily staffed with white supremacists.

Wilson admittedly did try to enact economic protections for working-class Americans against large corporations, and he has a luster as a progressive international statesman because of WWI, but while his racial legacy abroad (and particularly in the context of colonialism) is complex, it’s still... well, extremely racist. The period between 1877 (the end of Reconstruction) and 1923 (after the end of the Wilson presidency) has sometimes been called the nadir of American race relations, as all the gains from Reconstruction were rolled back, violent incidents including lynching became the norm (as well as the Tulsa Race Massacre in 1921 that we all just heard about thanks to the Orange One), and the Klan was politically empowered across America (not least by Wilson himself).

I think it’s important to note these things because Wilson would probably not come up on most people’s lists of racist or objectionable political figures, because a) as you note, Americans aren’t taught about this in the first place, and b) we like the idea that only the egregious George Wallace-esque types are or were actually racist, rather than examining it in the context of otherwise admired statesmen, as Wilson’s general legacy still is. I would also like to note that Abraham Lincoln, who is practically a figure of hero worship in American politics, remained far more concerned about the political Union than he ever was about black people, and used the Emancipation Proclamation to put pressure on the Confederacy, not because he was an anti-racist. He expressed opposition to slavery as an institution and by the time of his death was coming around to the idea of black citizenship, but he also said that “if I could save the Union without freeing one slave, I would do it, and if I could save it by freeing all the slaves, I would do that.” In other words, Lincoln’s attitudes on slavery and race also need closer study and awareness, and he is, after all, pretty much as uncontroversially saintlike as American presidents come.

The fact is that white Americans have been so coddled and pampered and shielded from reality that even discovering these very basic facts has come as a shock. You’d really think that in 2020 this wouldn’t be so goddamn controversial, but if nothing else, the sheer depths of this historical (mis)-education are now being brutally exposed, and everyone gets to see for themselves how a country full of “me-firsters” are now responsible for the dubious honor of the worst coronavirus response in the world/highest caseload. These two things really are connected. Ideology has almost completely replaced history, and while Trump has obviously accelerated and exposed that effort, America’s departure from reality has been going on for a long time. I’d like to say that will actually change now, but.... mmm.

Anyway, I’m glad that this podcast has been useful and enlightening to you. As you may know, I’m sitting over here as a historian watching all this happen with a mix of incredulity and despair about the way this country has simply not dealt with any of its shit because “we’re number one!” In general, Americans need to hear more about America from people outside it, because.... yeah. Yikes.

[n2qfd]

Now I want to see the list of polished turds (cities offering incentives) to relocate.. BBC featured Tulsa, where I found scorpions in my wardrobe and weathered my first tornado, yep same trip, same night.... And this bit on Topeka... 40 people... wow...

So wait, there's more than tornados, and racism in these places? Per someone who has visited Oklahoma a few times, yes, but not much. And if you're coming from DC or NYC or Boston or anywhere people have heard of, after it being remarkablely cheaper, I suspect the veneer will wear through quickly.

[sleepynegress]

WATCHMEN PILOT

Okay... more spoilery impressions.  I mentioned in my tags that I really didn’t like the Zach Snyder filmed version of WATCHMEN.  The biggest reason  is that it wallowed in the very same glossy veneer of super-heroes on film (the slo-mo fights, the over-indulgent set-pieces) that WATCHMEN made a point of dismantling. It also didn’t have the comicbook print primary color cynicism of WATCHMEN.  I felt drained and sad after reading that book for the right reasons. WATCHMEN the movie, just felt like yet another superhero movie, that was trying to be “edgy” in a very shallow way. THIS however, does carry the same mood as the source material and big BONUS for continuing the story from the comic book ending, instead of the movie ending...

That’s what the raining “squids” were about, BTW.   That alluded to the world still seeing after-effects of Veidt’s Apocalyptic monster.

And super-clever usage of Rorschach, this hyper-violent, mentally ill white man, who was physically small and unremarkable, but whose dark way of seeing the world, would believably be warped to be the mascot for white supremacists view of the other.  Also, ALSO.... LOVE that this modern alt-universe made the cops the targets of white supremacy instead of it’s mainstream tool. OMG!!! Tulsa...  The opening was as harrowing and heart-wrenching as it was disgusting, as it should be. I also noticed that the opening black couple had a darker-skinned woman than her husband, which is rare in media.  Typically the woman is lighter in skintone than her romantic partner. The segue into the hip-hop track, being played on the radio by a member of the Kalvary (*whew!*) reminded me of Underground and just made me miss that show all over again. There is a sense of impending doom throughout this pilot. You can just feel that the other shoe will drop, and drop it did. Regina King as Sister Night!!!!!!! She is awesome and she is married to a black man. They got to make love(!) on onscreen and be sexy and loving in the mainstream (non-black) show, wow! This buff supportive man stays behind to protect the family while Sister Night goes and does her hero thing... Louis Gossett Jr. (LEGENDARY!) as the survivor of Tulsa (I think the baby he helped is gonna be key too, going forward) For the old Sleepies... Tom Mison and Sara Vickers as Mime and Marionette...  You could see the little hints that something isn’t quite right mentally with them (presenting the horseshoe) and I look forward to seeing them slip into villainy. I saw a BUNCH of easter eggs in this that I’ll definitely have to rewatch. That battle on the cow pasture was disgusting and amazing. I’ve low-key stanned Tim Blake Nelson’s acting for a good while and I really like him so far in this.  I like the conscious alt-world swap with the hill-billy, white good ole (cow)boy and I think Russian in the Red Scare, being the ones *fighting* white supremacy.  It’s implied that one of the big alt-history directional shifts that effects events in this show is the “Redfordations” (like Obamacare), I assumed a liberal president actually gave reparations to black people and the cops helped protect/enforce it.   And poor white resentment festered to the point where we see this Kalvary situation. It feels like this is being handled intelligently, in unexpected, but well-thought-out ways.  And I hope it continues down that path.   Oh!  And Jeremy Irons is PERFECT casting for an older Ozymandias. I really want to know more about the alt-history fallout of Vietnam and why Angela Abar has white children.

It feels surreal and yet grounded in it’s reality.  It’s topical (Trump and the rise of the alt-right in *our* reality) but not lazily so. So far, so good.

[tulsadentalcare]

Tulsa dentists

Dr. Meghan Hoodges is one of the best Tulsa dentists to offer absolute care & treatment of your dental problems. Restore your smile at the hands of the finest dentists in Tulsa.https://www.tulsadentalcare.com/

[docholligay]

Okay, so I think this is a really fair way for you to feel, Sofie. Your life has more or less been devoted to taking care of your mother, and I find that so incredibly unfair to you, and I think it’s stunted you in really sad and terrible ways. I think, especially with a tragedy removing the veneer of home from this place for you, it would only be normal and natural for you to feel this way. 

But. 

I can just taste Jonesy telling her that he’s going off to Tulsa as soon as they pack up, to try and give her a way out of here, to try to give himself someone he can trust and love and who will trust him, and oh my god this is going to work out so spectacularly badly I don’t want this but maybe I also do? RUN YOU IDIOTS!!! FROM YOURSELVES!!!

[hartlessfics]

Title: Mementos&Memories Artist: @pantydean Author: NadiaHart @hartlessfiction Rating: Explicit Pairings: Dean/Cas, Destiel Wordcount: 17,182 Read on A03

Summary:There is a distance between memory and reality and it doesn’t always look as you’d expect it to. Sometimes it’s a tangible thing, a long stretch of deserted back roads. Pavement, patched and faded from years of weather and wear. Sometimes, it doesn’t have a look at all, but a sound. The whirr and buzz of an old Polaroid camera printing a photo.

There is a distance between then and now. Sometimes the distance is small, just the space of an exhale. Sometimes it’s fathomless, like the fall from heaven to earth.

Castiel is a man making his way across the chasm between divinity and humanity. A distance between who he was, and who he is now. Along the way he learns about himself, the family he finds, the memories he makes, and all of the moments he manages to capture in-between.

Link to art masterpost

“Nooooope,” Sam stiffens and turns on a dime, heading back to the Impala.  

“Sam, what the hell?” Dean sighs, tossing his duffel bag back into the trunk with more force than is probably necessary. “I just want a fucking shower, man!”

To be fair, Dean is covered in some sort of slowly dripping green goop, his shirt plastered to his chest and the flannel he’s wearing is more or less in ribbons down his back. He’s pulled off the highway into the first town they found, then into the first parking lot of the first motel he saw from the road. It’s a severely run down little dive called The BigTop. Castiel is halfway out of the back seat when his eyes snap to what has caused Sam’s sudden one-eighty and Dean’s outburst.

Behind the dingy reception desk, standing under a flickering yellowed bulb is a seven and a half foot tall statue of a clown. It’s in disrepair. Its already creepy face–the paint half chipped off like at some point someone had tried to move it and instead dropped it on its head, cracking the veneer–is mangled and sinister looking, to say the least. The flickering light casts slithering shadows across its hollow eyes and eerily parted half curled mouth, make it seem like it's snarling. Like it’s peering directly into your soul and just waiting to suck it right out of your mouth.

Castiel shivers at the sight of it, and the longer he stares at the statue, the more uneasy he feels. He can understand Sam’s hesitancy. The half balding man hunched behind the reception desk, on the other hand, is more interested in the battered paperback in his hands than realizing the imminent threat of that statue looming over his shoulder obviously poses, as Sam Winchester clearly does.

The passenger side door slams closed as Sam slides resolutely back into his spot. Sam’s made his decision; they won't be staying here tonight. Castiel glances around at the bleak motel with its faded circus theme and spots at least two more equally forlorn statues scattered around the property.  He’s more than pleased to slip back inside the Impala, grimacing as Dean catches his eye and silently implores him to take his side. When Castiel shrugs, Dean slams the trunk and stomps around the Impala, grumbling as he slips back behind the wheel.

“This shit fucking itches.” He complains as he throws the car into reverse. Sam’s shoulders visibly relax as they back out of the parking lot and onto the freeway. “If I get a rash…” Dean grumbles as Sam flicks on the radio. Castiel watches the interaction fondly, fatigue makes him weary, his head tipping to lean against the window.

The streetlights pass wetly over the Impala as Dean drives through the night, the sound of his voice singing along to the radio and the rumble of the car pulling at Castiel’s mind until he’s drifting. Now that Castiel’s fallen and the last remaining vestiges of his grace are fading to nothing, sleep is something he is learning to treasure.

There are lots of things, in fact, that he’s learning to treasure. Hot coffee in the morning, peanut butter and jelly on white bread before bed, buttered rye toast and runny eggs, cheeseburgers with bacon, pie––and cake, but he keeps that to himself. Sheets fresh out of the dryer, the smell of old books... orgasms. He hums a sigh rolling his forehead against the cold glass of the back window. He’s really learning to treasure orgasms. The heat, the rush, the sudden euphoric rise, and crash. He especially enjoys them in a nice hot shower or tucked between the sheets of his bed in the bunker, right before he falls asleep at night. There’s nothing like that loose-limbed feeling to pull him into a dreamless slumber. Dreamless nights are few and far in between, now that the nightmares of his past chase him whenever his mind starts to wander.

“Hey, sleeping beauty.” Dean rumbles, mirth in his tone. Castiel lurches as Dean yanks the door he’s leaning against open, his body sliding towards the ground before he can stop it. Dean's there, though, hand on Castiel's shoulder to keep him from tumbling to the cracked pavement.

“What are you doing?” Castiel asks, voice deep like thunder until he clears his throat. “Why would you do that?”

Dean smirks. “Found a place the princess deems acceptable.”

“Shove it, Dean” Sam’s voice calls from somewhere by the trunk.

Castiel nods and licks his lips, accepting Dean’s hand when he extends it to help Castiel out of the back seat. He takes a moment to stretch, flexing his fingers and arching his back until it pops and he sags back in on himself with a sigh. “Where are we?”

Dean tosses him his duffle. “‘Bout four hours outside of Tulsa.”

“You drove all night?” Castiel’s brows rise. “Why?”

They are standing in the parking lot of another motel. It’s always another motel, and if it’s not, its the backseat of the Impala. Now that there are three of them, that's not an option anymore, so they stick to motels. This motel appears, at least, to be without a theme, though it’s many decades out of date, which isn’t unusual for them.

Dean shrugs in response to Castiel’s question, the: ‘cause it’s what they do, they’re hunters', goes unsaid. They move around the country, drive all night, face one close call after another until the call is too close and they end up another John Doe in the paper mauled by a mountain lion or eaten by a bear. No one believes that werewolves or wendigos are real, anyway.

Castiel falls into step with Sam as the trio approach the reception desk. His eyes stray to the bulletin board as Dean flirts with the middle-aged woman behind the counter.

“What is a... swap... meet… ?” Castiel asks, his eyes drawn to a little orange flyer.

Sam slides up next to him and reads over the advert. “Huh. It's kind of like a yard sale, or... um...”  he’s obviously struggling, his eyebrows furrowed, lips pinched. Castiel patiently waits for Sam to find a suitable analogy to make him understand.

“You know what? Why don’t we go check it out? I can take you down; it's a good place to pick up some cheap supplies. We could all use some new shirts…” He spares a glance at Dean, who obviously cleaned up a bit during the drive last night but still has dark green stains along the back of his jeans and behind his ears. “It will be a good experience.”

That is something Sam’s been saying a lot recently. It will be a good experience . Since Castiel fell, since he became the hollow shell of what he once was, Sam has been trying to fill the void with distraction. Dean, on the other hand, seems resolutely determined to ignore the fact that Castiel is different now. Though Dean always seems to be close by, hovering on the edges of Castiel's awareness. It would be endearing if it weren’t so annoying like he’s just waiting for Castiel to fuck up… again . Not that Castiel could blame him really, he’s been fucking up pretty badly for a long time now.

“Hey,” Sam says softly, his face morphing in concern. “We don’t have to go…”

Sometimes Castiel forgets that his face shows more emotion now that he's human. That whatever he’s thinking no longer has the buffer of his grace to soften it before it’s written into his expression. Now they are one and the same.

“I’m not going,” Dean says before Castiel can respond. He pushes the spare room key and the keys to the Impala into Sam’s chest. “You two lovebirds can do whatever you want. All I want is a nice hot shower and my four fucking hours.”

“Dean…” Sam hisses scolding his brother for what Castiel assumes is Dean’s apparent lack of concern for his feelings. He can’t help but roll his eyes. He might be (mostly) human now, but that doesn’t mean he needs Sam acting like he’s going to break from getting his feelings hurt. He’s not fucking fragile. Well, maybe his body is fragile now, but Dean’s ordinarily crass attitude is something he’s used to. It’s a constant, and sometimes it even makes him feel like he’s still his old useful self.

“Fine,” Castiel says, handing his bag off to Dean, who takes it without complaint.

“Bring back food.” Dean calls over his shoulder as he juggles the bags, “... and pie!”

It turns out that Cas loves the swap meet. He points at random everyday objects with a contained sort of speculative wonder. He spends over twenty minutes at a table full of snow globes and old tea sets. Once Sam’s able to drag Cas away from examining a blender made in the sixties he manages to get a few gently used Carharts from a hunter who’s arthritis is keeping him out of the cold. Sam encourages Cas to try on a pair of hiking boots, and they hit a gold mine at a table run by an elderly woman whose kids have long since moved away. Apparently, her sons went through a ‘hipster phase’ because they find a bunch of henleys, flannels, and a few pairs of jeans in both Dean and Cas size. Cas nabs a pair of running sneakers and Sam spends a few minutes looking through a stack of old musty books.

“Oh my, yes.” The elder woman says with a smile. “Jimmy loved that silly thing.”

Sam’s looks around in time to see Cas’s head snap up. “Jimmy?”

“Mmm, my son,” the woman hums softly, shuffling over to where Cas is standing. “It's an instant camera. A Polaroid.” Gently she takes the gray and black box from Cas’ hands and shows him how to use it, the rainbow neck strap hanging limply from its hinges. “Have you not seen one of these, deary?”

“No…” Cas replies, his voice a deep rumble that Sam recognizes by this point as him feeling emotional. Sam knows he’ll be getting Jimmy’s camera for Cas. Selecting one of the books from her table at random, Sam moves to stand next to Cas.

“Here, smile!” The woman says, lifting the camera to her eye and snapping a photo. The old device whirrs and whines as it prints. She deftly plucks the picture from the mouth of the camera and gives it a little shake. Cas takes the photo with both hands when she offers it over to him, his mouth parting in wonder as the image develops before his eyes. And like a child, his head snaps up to Sam’s, eyes shining with the silent question.

“How much?” Sam asks with a small indulgent smile as Cas’ head swings back to the old woman. Sam knows Cas is giving her the puppy dog look he’s been accidentally perfecting on Dean since he fell. The old woman smiles at Cas, the lines around her eyes deepening.

“You know what. Ten dollars and I’ll throw in the box of film I’ve got around here somewhere.” She shuffles off, shifting around a few boxes until she comes back with a small retro style suitcase, it’s got all sorts of stickers across the top and the name Jimmy in faded black print along the bottom right corner. “I hate to see it go, but I think…” she slides the case across the folding table “it’s going to a good home.”

“Indeed” Cas agrees, and he shares one of his rare gummy smiles with the elderly woman. Even Sam feels the warmth radiating from the fallen angel. It’s the little things, he thinks, the small experiences that make being human worth it .

On the way back to the motel, packages in hand, Cas sits in the front seat the camera carefully draped around his neck by the rainbow striped strap and clicks open the buttons on the little suitcase. Even Sam is surprised at how well this mysterious Jimmy ket his things organized. The instruction book is in there, along with what appears to be two dozen unopened boxes of film and a small red photo album explicitly designed to hold Polaroids. Inside is a photo of the elderly woman looking much younger smiling up at the camera, a son on either side of her. They seem happy. Sam watches Cas trace his fingers over the image before returning it to the front slot of the photo album. He flips the page and adds the photo of he and Sam smiling in the old church parking lot among the piles of stuff at the swap meet.

Cas picks up the instruction book humming as he reads it all the way up to the motel door. Sam unlocks it, juggling the bags from the swap meet and sees Dean passed out on one of the two queen beds. “Shh,” he hushes over his shoulder, stepping into the room with Cas on his heels.

He’s setting down all the packages, sorting out things to wash when the absence of movement draws his attention. Cas is standing just a few paces from the door, frozen like a statue, his lips parted slightly, eyes wide and focused on Dean.

His brother is sleeping belly down on the bed in just a t-shirt and a faded pair of boxer briefs. It’s a sight Sam’s seen a lot in their life of motel hopping. It must still be fairly new for Cas though, because he slowly lifts the camera to his face, hesitates for the breadth of a heartbeat, and snaps a photo. The sound of the camera working is loud in the quiet room, and Dean flinches, his whole body reacting. His hand snaps out from under his pillow; a gun pointed directly at Cas. Sam watches the former angel shift back slightly the camera dropping from in front of his face.

“Sonnova… Cas, what the hell man!” Dean snaps dropping his head back onto the pillow with a low groan. He takes stock of the situation half of his face still pressed into the pillow, and his one-eyed gaze falls with accusation on Sam. “Why did you buy him a fucking camera, Sam,” he says, arching a brow.

Sam shrugs, a smile spreading across his lips “I dunno, but I feel like it’s going to be a good investment.”

Dean chucks the pillow at Sam’s head.

READ THE REST ON A03

[createthemovementseo-blog]

Advancement in Dentistry allows you to smile openly and feel confident and young. Explore our Cosmetic Procedures and work your way towards a healthier smile. With the following Cosmetic Procedures, we offer at Origin Dental Wellness, you’ll work your way towards looking and feeling younger while sharing a confident and natural smile.

[jf3co]

Bed & Breakfast Book Reviews

*Sleepless at a Bed & Breakfast in Mendocino, CA, I snapped a quick picture of this bookshelf and wrote a few reviews, presumptively, on what I believed them to be about...

Desert Heat, Kat Martin - Following on the success of her critically acclaimed work, Hot Mixer: The Viscoelastic Properties of Polymers, 3rd Edition, Kat Martin scores another round-the-bases grand slam in unravelling the internecine malfeasance and swarthy denouement inherent in the competitive field of optical thin-film materials with low refractive index regarding the photorealistic constants of vitreous silica and its elastic coefficient of refractive indices. Here we meet Dr. Heat, one time Ms. Universe, but now, after the mysterious accident that left her speed-boat racing boyfriend, Tom Hart, dead, and her deaf in one ear, a researching PhD in materials sciences focusing on photonics crystal cladding of all-silica singe-mode optical fibers. Dr. Heat finds herself late at the lab developing and writing waveguides in glass with femtosecond lasers when she overhears that maybe her arrival and the untimely death of her speedboat racing boyfriend might be no accident after all. Can Dr. Heat unravel this enigma within a mystery while simultaneously charting the refractive index of fused silica and crystal quartz? Pick up your copy today! ~ Receiver of the 1989 Larry Hough Gold Mustache Award.

Artists in Adobe, Sledman - Once again the artist simply known as Sledman proves that no subject is unworthy of his meandering and weighty analysis as he throws yet another contender into this years’ already crowded adobe artistry genre. In Artists in Adobe, Sledman slowly, and at times in a painfully verbose and obtuse fashion brings us the beleaguered reader through his own take on the overanalyzed field of air-dried organic mud brick materials, barely a step-up from cob and rammed earth works. If you choose to heave this weighty tome around with you and (eventually) make it across the tired and well-trod finish line, I assume that you, like me, thinks that Sledman should go back to his roots to the shock artistry of tattooing kindergartners based on their verbal agreement and bringing thoughtful discourse to the subject of implied consent. Artists in Adobe, despite it’s incredible heft, simply does not deliver.

Windy City Blues, Sarah Paretsky - Kudos to Sarah Paretsky for peeling back the corner-curled veneer of the one-and-only internationally-famed and magical Windy City, Tulsa, Oklahoma, through the eyes of our favorite protagonist, Vance Hammer, Investigative Dentist. Vance is in a pickle, from his bicuspids to his incisors in trying to determine why all of his patients inexplicably develop a severe malaise that can only be categorized as advanced depression. No one is safe, from the leggy new AmGen Pharmaceuticals rep, Dolly Velvet, pushing their new signature line of laughless nitrous oxide, to good old Arthur Armlock, restorative dentistry CAD/CAM technician at the fabrication lab for crown and bridge restorations. Sarah extracts the essence of both Tulsa and the "pull-or-be-pulled" world of investigative dentistry, exposing the nerve at the root that leaves the reader braced to the point that no amount of Novocaine can dull.