Congratulations! The fact that you’re reading this book means you’re on your way to achieving your WILDEST DREAMS. You want to be a dentist? I’m going to make it happen. And guess what? It only takes four hours. Let me repeat that: in four hours, you will be a dentist. Take a deep breath and get ready for the ride of your life. Welcome to the 4-Hour Dentist.
Listen: I was once just like you — weak, pathetic, not practicing dentistry. I was a lonely turd spiraling down the toilet of life. Now I’m the most successful dentist in the fucking cosmos. Wake up! You can’t even imagine how amazing my life is. Knock knock. Who’s there? Oh hey look it’s me, earlier this morning, eating foie gras off the flawless naked body of a nineteen-year-old Brazilian supermodel. Fact: I can literally produce more semen in ten seconds than a pack of adult wild boars can in ten years. I’ll let that sink in for a second — okay time’s up! Here’s a true story: I’m writing this from a Bavarian castle right now while my butler shines my $15,000 shoes. How did I get this awesome? Was it because I went to “dental school” or obtained a “license”? Get real!
Here’s what I want you to do: Take everything you thought you knew about becoming a dentist and write it down on a piece of paper. Now, crumple up that piece of paper and stuff that bad boy all the way down your throat until you can’t breathe. Find the nearest mirror. Are you turning blue yet? Okay pull that shit out before you die. You’re welcome — I just saved your life; now shut up and pay attention because here come the three rules of the 4-Hour Dentist.
F for Fermented Cod Liver Oil. I inject 16 ounces of fermented cod liver oil (FCLO) directly into my brain every day — and that’s just before breakfast (which consists of two almonds and a large capsule of fermented cod liver oil). There is no limit to how much FCLO you can take, but the more the better. A healthy dose of this stuff to your central nervous system, along with a solid intake of human chorionic gonadotropin and your daily bloodlettings, and you’ll be ready for anything — from 12-hour tantric sex marathons to cagefighting rabid silverback gorillas to using that little mirror to check for cavities.
R for Reality. This is the most important step for the 4-Hour Dentist. Several years ago, I was snowboarding down Mount Everest after giving Bono singing lessons when I struck a tree and died instantly on impact. At first I just laid there, totally dead, a complete loser. Then something occurred to me: Being dead sucks! I’d totally rather be having wolverine sex with the entire cast of 7th Heaven circa 1997. Bam! It happened. Moral of this fucking awesome story? Success comes to those who force reality to bend to their will. Objectivity is subjective, and the laws of science are for victims. You’re not a dentist until you determine that you are a dentist. Visualize the tiny cups of fluoride; smell those disposable gloves; grab your beautiful young dental hygienist and give her the most epic orgasm of her life. It’s all already happening!
D for drugs. I find that taking extreme amounts of assorted drugs on a daily basis is a must.
Now that you know the rules, give yourself a pat on the back and locate your local soft rock station; you’re a dentist! What happens next is entirely up to you, but understand this: being a dentist blows! If you want any success in your life, the only chance you have is to become an astronaut immediately. My new book, 4-Hour Astronaut, is in stores now — buy it today!