ICECUBES?

One thing that continues to amuse me is those news articles years ago that mentioned teenagers surreptitiously popping their grandparents' pills as an adventure.
What if grandpaw is taking anti-psychotics or bloodthinners?
Maybe he's chronically limp, and it's viagra?


Imagine junior running around highschool with a dull look in his eyes, delayed responses, tremors, and bumping into things and getting horribly bruised, all the while with a giant painful hard-on that totally baffles him. What is this 'thing'? And why is it?
Carefully take the scissors out of his hands.
Buy the boy a bag of ice.

[Blood thinners mean that bruising is easy, and much more dramatic. The visual impact can be startling.]

This comes to mind because every evening at roughly this time I take a five milligram tab of Amlodipine Besylate. No, I don't have antipsychotics -- probably because I have no offspring or grandoffspring to rile me up -- and I've been off Clopidogrel for nearly over two years now. And what with not having a snookiepooh, Viagra or similar chemical aids to a fulfilled bourgeois life style are immaterial and there is none of it here in any case.

There is no marijuana lying about either. I despise the stuff.

Yeah, I know that pot is so much more acceptable than tobacco, from which we must protect the children because even one person seen enjoying a cigar or pipe from a very long way off might traumatize them for life the poor innocent dears, and as everybody knows cannabis is grown by little green men in the Amazon who hug dolphins daily and recycle so it's pure and natural and puts you in touch with your spiritual side besides curing everything that ails you.
Holistically.

One of my friends overseas has been a life-long pot smoker, and seldom makes any sense at all. Another friend recounted the same six anecdotes every time we met for several years, and a person I no longer associate with rolls around on her three-wheeled mobility scooter bumping into random things and people on the sidewalk, often screaming angrily.


So teenagers looking to get high, of whatever age, do not have my sympathy.


And for the record, the Grateful Dead are sh*tty poseurs.


Have some chocolate instead.



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