Thursday, December 2, 2010

Brought to You by the Side Effects of Pseudoephedrine

I was pretty sick earlier this week.  I can say that now.  Sick.  Tuesday I would've told you that you could take my DVD player and anything else you might want, because I was starting to see the light.  The real turning point for me was Sudafed.  Not the mickey mouse stuff they sell in the aisles, but the stuff you have to wear a trench coat and sunglasses to buy from the pharmacist. I don't know who these people are that are being helped by the stuff they sell over the counter, but my nose looks down its, um...nose (?)... at such things. I need the real stuff. You see, I have baby ears. No, not like tiny disproportionate ears. I mean that I get ear pain and infections from colds as frequently as a toddler. I've heard that it has something to do with the angle of my ear canal and that most people have less sharp angles by adulthood than I do. I think I've heard that. I've had too much pressure in there to be sure.  So I sort of nod at Dr. CharlieBrownTeacherVoice and resign myself to a trip to the pharmacy.

I can't stand the shame they force on you by making you sign your name, show your ID, register for the draft, and provide your credit score just to get a little relief.  You walk up to the sinus speakeasy and put on your best I don't use and/ or manufacture methamphetamines face and hope that they believe you.  I have to bite my tongue to not scream, "I don't do drugs.  I don't know what meth looks like. I'm not really even fun!"

It just really irritates me that we have criminalize things because some hillbilly misappropriated it.  By that logic, you better say goodbye to your four wheel drive and pork products.  Oh, and cousins.  They're gone too.

That is why I sent Craig to Walgreens. 

The End.

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