--NICKELBACK
I wish someone would invent a pill to make those trailblazing mavericks Nickelback
go away. I suspect that I’m not alone on this one. We could swallow a little green pill, swish it down like REAL rock stars, with a shot of water (pronounced Tequila) and BAM! The band actually explodes into a million pieces, as Rob Zombie sweeps their scattered remains down the nearest storm drain of non rock stars (who claim that they hold disdain for commercial artists) into the abysmal depths of irrelevance. Speaking of Kid Rock
Have you noticed that there’s a pill for everything? You can’t open a newspaper, magazine or turn on the TV anymore without being bombarded by PILLS!! Acid reflux? Take a pill. Acne? Take a pill. Soft bones? Take a pill. Soft bone? (not to be confused with bones) Take a pill. Out of control kids? Give them a bunch of pills and then YOU pop a couple of Excedrin extra strength…which, according to the bottle, “May cause a headache.” What???
Other than the Federal government and Dr. Laura, how can something which is supposed to HELP have so many negative and risky side effects?
I saw a commercial this weekend where the slick, fast talking announcer rattled off possible side effects which included the following:
“May cause suicidal thoughts or actions.”
And all this time I thought that….nah, too easy…I shall not stoop to the level of invoking obvious, gratuitous remarks. On another note, it’s time to play WHEEL OF FORTUNE!!!
CATEGORY: May cause suicidal thoughts or actions
EX G__ RLFR__END
M__KE THE ED__TOR &
N__CKELBACK
“I’d like to buy an “I” Pat! And tell Vanna to take off her dress”
Did you know that there's an anti depressant drug which may cause suicidal thoughts or actions and an anti anxiety drug which may cause schizophrenia? That must have been an entertaining day with the lab rats down at the research center.
I walked into a restroom recently when I stumbled upon a gentleman who was carrying on an animated conversation with Steve, Terry and Kevin. I don’t know what Steve, Terry and Kevin did to draw this man’s ire, but it’s important to note that, other than the two of us, the restroom was empty.
I’m not a doctor but I like holistic remedies when possible. In this case, I quickly exited the restroom, dissolving the quorum. Thus, according to widely recognized global quorum by-laws, ending his meeting. This seems to prompt governmental bodies to take a break so I figured it was worth a try…and with no side effects!
I don’t know if it made the voices in his head go away but I felt better about my chances of survival. I, on the other hand, will now need a pill for an aggravated bladder as I never got to pee.
Everyone is so stressed these days. Understandable…grim economic outlooks, inflation, high gas prices, two wars, instability and security threats in North Korea and Iran, Nickelback’s latest song…these are dark times indeed.
Speaking of which, I have a friend who always calls at the worst possible stressful moments. Not for me…for HER. I’ll go for weeks without hearing from her and, almost every single time that she calls, the conversation goes like this:
Me: Hello
Her: (background noise sounds as though she’s standing on the deck of an aircraft carrier)
Me: HELLO??
Her: Oh, Hey….can you hear me??
Me: Yeah, where are you?
Her: Oh, I’m at home…the contractors just started sanding the floors and I’m also babysitting my neighbor's kids. Just thought I'd call to catch up with you. (background noises of what sounds to be a school bus full of children who have spent the entire morning feasting on sugar drenched cereal, candy bars, soft drinks and crystal meth. And there's a cat meowing incessantly)
Me: Well, it’s good to hear from you…everything goin’ okay?
Her: HEY!! TAKE THE DISH RAG OUT OF YOUR SISTER’S MOUTH AND UN-TIE HER…RIGHT NOW!!! (MEOW, MEOW!)
Me: Um…
Her: Sorry, what were you saying?
Me: Um…
Her: HEY!!! STOP HITTING THE DOG WITH THE GOLF CLUB!! AND TAKE THE TV REMOTE OUT OF YOUR SISTER'S MOUTH! (MEOW!)
Me: Uh, I was saying that I'm…
Her: (Loud crash) SHIT!! Hey, the boys just threw their sister through the window and the cat just got sucked into the floor sander. Look, it’s a bad time, sorry…can I call you back?
I’m no time management expert, as any employer will affirm, but it occurs to me that when calling someone, perhaps it’s best to do so from a locale which doesn’t sound as though you’re doing a live news report from the front lines of a full-scale military conflict.
I'm no different from anyone else...I don’t like stress, but I don’t want to take a pill every time I feel the pressures of life closing in on me. I simply transport my thoughts to my happy place.
A poolside villa overlooking an ornately decorated Greek swimming pool where two young, confused, ladies are rubbing tanning lotion on one another. One girl stands up and her bikini top accidentally pops off as the doorbell rings.
They playfully chase one another to the front door, giggling all the way. Then I walk in, donning an electric company meter man shirt, tight boxer briefs with a tool belt, mirrored sunglasses and a porn moustache. The girls then make sexual innuendo, asking me if I might teach them how to scale a utility pole.
When I did voice over work, sometimes I’d have to visit the television station audio production studio. TV newsrooms are quite hectic and I always enjoyed strolling through to observe the controlled chaos.
My friend, Neil, was a TV meteorologist- I always called him out on his faux degree which garnered the title of “DOCTOR” being attached to his name. HA HA HA HA HA!
This is the same guy who once passed out drunk at a party with a bottle of cheap vodka, face down in the snow. We finally figured out where he was when the pizza delivery guy showed up and alerted us to the fact that a man was on the front lawn in a pile of yellow snow singing a Whitesnake power ballad.
We finished our pizza and did a shot with the delivery guy before scooping Neil up from the pile of snow. We then completely wrapped him up like a mummy in Ace
bandages and rolled him under the guestroom bed. Needless to say, I had a difficult time taking him seriously as he authoritatively looked into the camera with concerned tone in his voice as he tracked a tornado heading straight for a local trailer park.I laughed until I almost cried when I saw him in one of those TV station promos one night. You know the commercial I'm talking about. It starts with tragic weather scenes as the scary, deep-voiced announcer guy assures you that you will most likely die and go to hell if you don't watch channel 5 during a storm.
In the commercial, Neil was crouched over the Weather Center 5 pinpoint 3-D storm, tornoado, hurricane, snowstorm, prison escapee doppler 7000 radar
staring solemnly at the console as though he were about to tell a concerned patient that they had 4 months to live...and that their son is gay. Neil was always stressed! HOW?
Neil: And your 5-day forecast…lookin’ good. Highs in the mid 70’s lows in the lower 60’s and no rain anywhere in our weather models.
News Anchor: Well Neil, that’s a great forecast for my golf match this week, I‘ll dust off my 3-wood.
Neil: Ha ha ha, well, Bob, I’ve seen you use the 3-wood…unfortunately you’ll need more than mother nature to help…ha ha ha ha.
Anchor: Ha ha ha…Very funny! You rascal…thanks Neil. In other news…
Now that I think about it, I’d be stressed too if I were forced to engage in mindless chit chat on TV with a 900-year old, stuffy news anchor.
One day I showed up at the studio with, what I thought to be, a brilliant idea. I’d eaten about four strips of green apple Laffy Taffy so that my tongue would be green. I stood against the green screen, upon which weather maps and TV graphics are superimposed, to see if the map would appear on my tongue.
DOCTOR Neil would always glare at me, judgmentally, shaking his head and then asked if I was drunk. What does that have to do with anything? Then we did a shot of Jameson in his office and I went on about my day.
I think that my visits to the TV station were helpful in lowering Neil’s stress in that, observing me, he felt better about his life. Lower blood pressure…pill free. You're welcome Neil.
For the record…the weather map/Laffy Taffy experiment didn’t work but we were able to superimpose a head shot picture of the smokin' hot weekend weather girl on the front of my green boxer shorts. This largely explains why I don’t have a “doctor” title attached to my name.
I understand that there are numerous medicines on the market which save lives and greatly increase the quality of life for millions. We’re truly lucky to be living in such a medically advanced era. I even understand the impotence…I mean, importance of...
VIAGRA
What catches my attention is the disclaimer. “Ask your doctor if your heart is healthy enough for sex.” What??
A better question would be:
“Hey doc, what are your feelings about the status of my heart health as it pertains to having sex with my lady friend? Specifically as it leads to a fairly steady relationship (with the exception of two moments of indiscretion with a hotel housekeeper while on a business trip to Cedar Rapids, Iowa and a brief moment of confusion in that rest area bathroom.)
Then we get married and have a couple of kids, who absolutely drain my bank account because one wants to go to medical school and the other one accidentally impregnates his girlfriend who he, in turn, marries and I feel obligated to help them purchase a house until such a time he announces that he’s quit his job and has decided to be a professional drummer in a band named THE SKULL FU#KS
You think the ol’ ticker is up for that one doc?”
I wish that there had been a drug which would have kept my parents alive much longer, a pill that I’m sure we’d all hope for a scientist to invent. I’ll bet my parents would have wished for a drug which made me not chop down a pine tree with the axe from my little tool set which I received at Christmas when I was 10. The magic pill would then reverse gravity...preventing the tree from falling and destroying the entire corner of the garage and the passenger side of the car.
The side effects of the magic pill would make hair grow back instantly after I shaved the dog and my friend Matt's head completely bald with mom's electric hair trimmer. Then it would have rendered me deaf and mute before I repeated my dad's assessment of his boss at the dinner table...in front of his boss.
For the record, I believe my dad's precise assessment in numerous rantings to my mother was that "Charles is a complete fu*king shithead" or something to that effect...it's a little fuzzy to me now since I was only 6-years old. It got reeeeal quiet at the table as I recall and Charles seemed very uncomfortable. My mother, on the other hand, laughed about it for the rest of her life.
How about a drug which makes one appear sexy, cool and hip? By the way guys…there’s absolutely no way for a man to look cool when sipping a drink through a straw. As for the ladies…that’s a whole different ballgame.
I don’t know about you, but I would be terribly uncomfortable taking a pill with side effects which include:
May cause blackouts and irrational or erratic behavior. Do not operate a vehicle while taking this medicine
Honestly, WHO would be comfortable with that??
CATEGORY: Stupid People
LI__DSAY LOHA__
"I’ll take an “N” Pat!"
I actually had a sinus headache when I began writing today but, thanks to a pill, it's all better now and I'm back to my happy place. Not THAT happy place...I only visit that place when I have alone time late at night while watching the female version of the Shake Weight
commercial.As I hand this silly little documentation of my happy corner of the world over to Osama Bin Mike to proof read before he beats one of his children senseless for ending a sentence in a preposition, I'm going to see a concert tonight. Irritable Bowel Syndrome is opening up for Skull F*ck.
I can assure you that they're tons better than Nickelback
copyright Pontchartrain Press 2010
