Step right up folks and choose your poison. How about some Januvia for your Diabetes II? Or Stelara for clear skin? Come one come all. But user beware because there are horrible side effects that can cripple and even kill you! Also, if you are allergic to these drugs you must get permission from your doctor. Tell him all the medicine you are presently taking. Do not drive or operate heavy machinery.
No drinking of hard liquor whatsoever, even wine would do you harm. Always call your doctor first, especially if you experience a dry throat, low blood pressure, high blood pressure, extreme perspiration, loud coughing, swollen legs, growling stomach, incontinence, internal or external bleeding, double vision, shortness of breath and sore feet.
Should any of these side effects appear, do not hesitate to call 911, or quickly have someone drive you to the nearest hospital for ER treatment. That could save your life. Yes, you might die from an overdose of any of the powerful drugs being advertised on radio, television and in newspapers and magazines.
Then too, folks, your doctor can offer you free samples. Things like Anore, Namenda, Invokana, Brintallix, Victoza, Lyrica, Harvori, etc. He has drawers filled with the tiny pills from drug company salesmen. Just remember, "if you don't ask, you don't get." And drug companies "have what it takes to take what you've got." The latter can be reduced to one word: MONEY.
You will never see a drug company's front lawn looking like Tobacco Road, with used auto tires, broken glass, rusty wheel barrels and auto parts strewn around. No, their lawns are beautifully kept manicured to look like church property. Don't even think of throwing an empty soda can or Starbuck coffe cup on the lawn. Security cameras will have recorded your foul behavior and you will be evicted and possibly beaten up by mean security guards.
Finally, I suggest you stop using any drugs at all. Live a healthy life by eating moderately, exercising and laughing out loud at all the indignities of life that threaten you. Remember, laughter is the only tranquilizer without side effects. Laughing releases endorphins within your body that protect your immune system. Forget about calling your doctor. He's much too busy either playing golf or on the phone with his stock broker.
I hope you will feel some solace from this Blog, because that's its purpose. We are surrounded by so many "cure all" drugs that do nothing but empty your wallet. Don't fall into a sucker trap that addicts you to pills that pretend to perform. Nor should you interrupt your doctor's golf game or his purchase of stock. He needs to pay his malpractice insurance, in the event you have to sue.
Monday, June 15, 2015
Monday, June 8, 2015
Please Don't Follow Me and I Won't Follow You!
The last time I tweeted on Twitter was several years ago when I laid down for a nap. Unlike Rip Van Winkle I don't plan to awaken for another year or two. Why? Because I just followed Bob, Miles and Manny. Actually I scrolled down their never ending weekend of boring activities and was almost ready to throw this computer out of my office window. Right through the glass! That's how disgusted I was to get trapped into follow these three lizards slithering through life with nothing to do. Yuck!
Let's get started. I'm going to bore you to death. It might be difficult because you might already be dead. How many characters do I have to use for a tweet? Is it 127? 137? I'm not sure. WTF. I don't pay attention to rules. Here goes. Start reading. If you can last through the whole Blog I'll send you a crushed banana that I purposely stepped on for the Grand Prize. Otherwise you get nothing!
I woke up this morning and yawned. Then I took off my blanket and guess what? I had a sheet under the blanket. I said sheet, not "shit." Actually I had to sit on the can and sent a nice cigar shaped turd into the Hudson River.
Here's another Tweet. I turned on the TV news. Two prisoners have escaped from the MAXIMUM ESCAPE PRISON IN DANAMORA, NEW YORK. That "joint" is only 20 miles from the Canadian border. Both guys are killers; so if they kill again it won't matter. How many life sentences without parole do you need to be incarcerated forever? Answer: only one.
The best part of this prison escape is the $100,000 for a "snitch" to call in and tell where they are. They have to be somewhere, don't they? And who can resist earning a hundred grand with only one phone call on an ipad? Very tempting. If I see those killers I'm calling the FBI, CIA, HSA and Anderson Cooper. He will be taking the Red Eye to where they are and collect the reward money.
Radio Station CHUM in Toronto broadcast an exclusive interview with the two killers (Called A and B to protect their families who are now in the Witness Protection Program for their safety).
A: We decided to break out a year ago when the food menu dropped to a new low.
B: Yeah. Baloney for breakfast, baloney for lunch and baloney for suppeer. That's a lot of baloney!
A: It wasn't only the cuisine. There were lumps in my mattress and rats living with me.
B. I thought you made good rat meat loaf for my birthday.
A. That was a special occasion, shithead. Don't expect any cake next year without a urine flavor.
B. Ummmm. I can taste it already. Will I get to lick your can?
A. Maybe. If you promise to suck my toes.
B. Certainly. Now let's plan to break out of jail and see if we can stay out for at least 72 hours.
A. Good idea. We'll separate and I'll meet you at McDonald's for dinner tomorrow night.
B. O.K. wear the Burka and pretend you have tits. Nobody will know you're one of the escapees.
A. I'm ready. It fits like I'm going to walk on the Red Carpet. I'll have a D Cup size.........
B. Oh shut up and get ready to drill. Here's a chain saw and a map of the tunnel we'll be crawling through for the outside world. Just keep drilling and don't make any noise.
A. I'll be careful. Especially with the silencer on my drill. Nice touch to our escape plan.
B. If we get caught. Be ready for Plan B...
A. I didn't get Plan B. What is it?
B. How should I know pisshead! You were supposed to leave it under my door...
A. You don't have a door. You're in the hole, asshole.
B. Be careful how you insult me pinhead. I might have to kill you.
A. Ha ha. GFY dummy. Let's end this and get to work on the tunnel.
I'm back to napping. Don't wake me if those two guys get caught. I'll read the whole story in the NEW YORK TIMES. Thanks for reading, folks. I'll do better next time.
Let's get started. I'm going to bore you to death. It might be difficult because you might already be dead. How many characters do I have to use for a tweet? Is it 127? 137? I'm not sure. WTF. I don't pay attention to rules. Here goes. Start reading. If you can last through the whole Blog I'll send you a crushed banana that I purposely stepped on for the Grand Prize. Otherwise you get nothing!
I woke up this morning and yawned. Then I took off my blanket and guess what? I had a sheet under the blanket. I said sheet, not "shit." Actually I had to sit on the can and sent a nice cigar shaped turd into the Hudson River.
Here's another Tweet. I turned on the TV news. Two prisoners have escaped from the MAXIMUM ESCAPE PRISON IN DANAMORA, NEW YORK. That "joint" is only 20 miles from the Canadian border. Both guys are killers; so if they kill again it won't matter. How many life sentences without parole do you need to be incarcerated forever? Answer: only one.
The best part of this prison escape is the $100,000 for a "snitch" to call in and tell where they are. They have to be somewhere, don't they? And who can resist earning a hundred grand with only one phone call on an ipad? Very tempting. If I see those killers I'm calling the FBI, CIA, HSA and Anderson Cooper. He will be taking the Red Eye to where they are and collect the reward money.
Radio Station CHUM in Toronto broadcast an exclusive interview with the two killers (Called A and B to protect their families who are now in the Witness Protection Program for their safety).
A: We decided to break out a year ago when the food menu dropped to a new low.
B: Yeah. Baloney for breakfast, baloney for lunch and baloney for suppeer. That's a lot of baloney!
A: It wasn't only the cuisine. There were lumps in my mattress and rats living with me.
B. I thought you made good rat meat loaf for my birthday.
A. That was a special occasion, shithead. Don't expect any cake next year without a urine flavor.
B. Ummmm. I can taste it already. Will I get to lick your can?
A. Maybe. If you promise to suck my toes.
B. Certainly. Now let's plan to break out of jail and see if we can stay out for at least 72 hours.
A. Good idea. We'll separate and I'll meet you at McDonald's for dinner tomorrow night.
B. O.K. wear the Burka and pretend you have tits. Nobody will know you're one of the escapees.
A. I'm ready. It fits like I'm going to walk on the Red Carpet. I'll have a D Cup size.........
B. Oh shut up and get ready to drill. Here's a chain saw and a map of the tunnel we'll be crawling through for the outside world. Just keep drilling and don't make any noise.
A. I'll be careful. Especially with the silencer on my drill. Nice touch to our escape plan.
B. If we get caught. Be ready for Plan B...
A. I didn't get Plan B. What is it?
B. How should I know pisshead! You were supposed to leave it under my door...
A. You don't have a door. You're in the hole, asshole.
B. Be careful how you insult me pinhead. I might have to kill you.
A. Ha ha. GFY dummy. Let's end this and get to work on the tunnel.
I'm back to napping. Don't wake me if those two guys get caught. I'll read the whole story in the NEW YORK TIMES. Thanks for reading, folks. I'll do better next time.
Sunday, June 7, 2015
How To Have A Great Summer Party!
It was the summer of 1978. Lou Wolfson's horse Affirmed had won the Triple Crown (thanks to profits he had made from financing our satirical movie on sex, "Is There Sex After Death?" featuring Buck Henry ("The Graduate"), Robert Downey, Sr. ("Putney Swope") and other known performers. My wife, Jeanne, and I lived in Westport,CT with daughter Jennifer, then six years old, and we had an antique Duluth, Winnepeg & Pacific Railroad Caboose in the back yard.
We decided to have one grand party in our spacious back yard, headlining the caboose, and give all our guests a month's notice. We sent out thirty invitations and kept fingers crossed for a nice summer day with no rain. Within a week, the phone began ringing. Those invited wanted to bring parents, children, relatives and even neighbors from New York, New Jersey and Connecticut.
A week before the event we had 150 adult guests arriving with 30 kids to entertain. We obviously would require a production as follows:
1. A printed program along with a list of the guests, their ages, marital status, profession, hobbies and take home pay. Also address and phone.
2. A string quartet to play on top of the caboose and an eight member jazz band to alternate 20 minute sets. The latter would be on the nearby basketball court.
3. A dancing horse and its rider from the Apple Circus who was a friend of ours.
4. A magician to entertain the children near one of three ponds.
5. 200 kazoos for everyone to play "Bridge on the River Kwai" (Colonel Bogey March) and parade down the street at the conclusion of the party that would last from 2 pm until 6 pm.
6. Three ceremonial trumpets would play a brief fanfare for each arrival. I would announce their presence over the bull horn, as one of our production staff handled the tray of food each person was asked to bring.
7. A local policeman would be hired to direct traffic and point out parking areas for cars.
8. Professor Richard Brown, from The New School, offered to film the day's event for his movie class.
Everything worked out perfectly. The weather was beautiful, there was plenty of delicious food on the buffet tables, the music had people listening and dancing, only one three year old fell in the pond and was quickly rescued, there was every profession imaginable attending......from Al Goldstein, publisher of Screw Magazine, to Dick Wittingham, Editor-in-Chief of LIFE Magazine.
So, folks, if you are going to throw a very special party to be remembered forever, follow our script as displayed. No charge for being a copycat.
We decided to have one grand party in our spacious back yard, headlining the caboose, and give all our guests a month's notice. We sent out thirty invitations and kept fingers crossed for a nice summer day with no rain. Within a week, the phone began ringing. Those invited wanted to bring parents, children, relatives and even neighbors from New York, New Jersey and Connecticut.
A week before the event we had 150 adult guests arriving with 30 kids to entertain. We obviously would require a production as follows:
1. A printed program along with a list of the guests, their ages, marital status, profession, hobbies and take home pay. Also address and phone.
2. A string quartet to play on top of the caboose and an eight member jazz band to alternate 20 minute sets. The latter would be on the nearby basketball court.
3. A dancing horse and its rider from the Apple Circus who was a friend of ours.
4. A magician to entertain the children near one of three ponds.
5. 200 kazoos for everyone to play "Bridge on the River Kwai" (Colonel Bogey March) and parade down the street at the conclusion of the party that would last from 2 pm until 6 pm.
6. Three ceremonial trumpets would play a brief fanfare for each arrival. I would announce their presence over the bull horn, as one of our production staff handled the tray of food each person was asked to bring.
7. A local policeman would be hired to direct traffic and point out parking areas for cars.
8. Professor Richard Brown, from The New School, offered to film the day's event for his movie class.
Everything worked out perfectly. The weather was beautiful, there was plenty of delicious food on the buffet tables, the music had people listening and dancing, only one three year old fell in the pond and was quickly rescued, there was every profession imaginable attending......from Al Goldstein, publisher of Screw Magazine, to Dick Wittingham, Editor-in-Chief of LIFE Magazine.
So, folks, if you are going to throw a very special party to be remembered forever, follow our script as displayed. No charge for being a copycat.
Tuesday, June 2, 2015
What Will Bruce Jenner Do With His Extra Body Part?
He could give it to someone. Perhaps hold an auction on eBay, if they would allow "something questionable." Probably not. Or gift the body part to a relative. Another possible is to display it, on the mantlepiece, in a jar filled with pickle juice. That might seem too gross for a newly made woman. On the other hand a DESPERATE HOUSEWIFE wouldn't hesitate for a moment to display her hubby's hose.
I would love to question Lorena Bobbitt's ex husband, John, about this situation. The last I heard, he was an entertainer in Las Vegas, allowing tourists to throw plastic rings, from a distance, on to his sewn on and extended pee-pee. As a lady from New Bern,NC said on the "Jenny Jones Show," "Too bad Lorena told authorities where she threw his joint."
Now, you readers are all wondering why I haven't just flat out said "penis" so far. Well, out of deference to Bruce Jenner, albeit his cover photo on VANITY FAIR MAGAZINE will sell at least 15 million copies, he/she deserves a little bit of modesty and privacy. Hmmmmmm. Not a very good excuse!
But I am a media provocateur somewhat sad today. Why? Because the NEWSEUM in Washington,DC, a depository of news memorabilia, has rejected my offer to sell them my memorabilia over the past fifty years. I have thousands of letters, tapes and photos that could provide incredible source material among their other collections. Oh well, BROWN UNIVERSITY also decided not to buy my stuff. I believe i lost by one vote.
So let's get back to Bruce Jenner. Probably the happiest person in the world (for awhile at least) is Bill Cosby. All his attention on the top of the news has vanished, even though drugged woman number forty has claimed she was violated. Wait! Is it possible that Cosby and Jenner might become a twosome? Never mind.
There are so many negatives going through my mind today, ranging from the despicable orange haired killer in Colorado and his sobbing parents in the courtroom, to the fact that the late Paul Newman (may he RIP) who took his own popcorn to movie theaters. Yes, there is quite a distance between those two observations. And I will end today's blog on that because it's time for me to sulk.
I would love to question Lorena Bobbitt's ex husband, John, about this situation. The last I heard, he was an entertainer in Las Vegas, allowing tourists to throw plastic rings, from a distance, on to his sewn on and extended pee-pee. As a lady from New Bern,NC said on the "Jenny Jones Show," "Too bad Lorena told authorities where she threw his joint."
Now, you readers are all wondering why I haven't just flat out said "penis" so far. Well, out of deference to Bruce Jenner, albeit his cover photo on VANITY FAIR MAGAZINE will sell at least 15 million copies, he/she deserves a little bit of modesty and privacy. Hmmmmmm. Not a very good excuse!
But I am a media provocateur somewhat sad today. Why? Because the NEWSEUM in Washington,DC, a depository of news memorabilia, has rejected my offer to sell them my memorabilia over the past fifty years. I have thousands of letters, tapes and photos that could provide incredible source material among their other collections. Oh well, BROWN UNIVERSITY also decided not to buy my stuff. I believe i lost by one vote.
So let's get back to Bruce Jenner. Probably the happiest person in the world (for awhile at least) is Bill Cosby. All his attention on the top of the news has vanished, even though drugged woman number forty has claimed she was violated. Wait! Is it possible that Cosby and Jenner might become a twosome? Never mind.
There are so many negatives going through my mind today, ranging from the despicable orange haired killer in Colorado and his sobbing parents in the courtroom, to the fact that the late Paul Newman (may he RIP) who took his own popcorn to movie theaters. Yes, there is quite a distance between those two observations. And I will end today's blog on that because it's time for me to sulk.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)