Wednesday, January 31, 2007

Al Franken Is A Selfish Bastard

So this is it Al? After 3 years together you're just going to walk out? You get some cockamamie idea about running for one of Minnesota's United States Senate seats .........and you just want to throw everything away?........what about us?!!! You selfish......egotisical.....meglomaniac..... and making your last show on Valentine's day. Why not just throw my heart down the garbage disposal?

Remember Reno Al? The day after the 2004 presidential election? I woke up sometime that morning after a textbook binge drinking session on election night and heard your voice. I remember your words that day as if they were spoken 5 minutes ago:

It's Wednesday, November 3rd, and The Al Franken Show is on the air. First, the good news: Ralph Nader did not swing a single state. As for the bad news, that's why we invented the Oy Yoy Yoy show. Joining us for wailing and gnashing of teeth, we've got New York Times columnist Paul Krugman, New York Observer writer Joe Conason, and American Enterprise Institute resident scholar Norm Orenstein. We're putting the gallows back in gallows humor--as The Al Franken Show starts......now.


I listened, managed a smile and felt a little better, until the hangover started shortly thereafter and I headed back downstairs to open the hotel bar. We'll always have Reno.

What am I supposed to do without your hate e-mail of the day? The people that read this blog can't write a decent hate e-mail to save their lives.

You know what? If you're gonna be this way.......if this is what you want, then go. JUST GO GODDAMMIT! I never want to see you again......do you understand? Never!!!!!........sob......sob....sniff.....

Al........ wait.......one more thing......before you head out that door.........

Be a good Senator..........

Monday, January 29, 2007

Best. Invention. Ever.


I can't believe this one got by me for so long........

I've written before about the pure sex appeal that is a woman in a burka. If Big Pharma ever sends you on a mission to catch the Drugmonkey in a compromising position the way General Motors tried to do with Ralph Nader, bring a burka. I will not be able to resist. Now we have this, from a January 16th AP story:

What do you get when you cross Australian beach culture with a desire to remain clothed in a way acceptable to Muslim women? If you're designer Aheda Zanetti, you get what she says is the world's first two-piece Islamic swimsuit, the burkini.

While other Islamic swimsuits exist, Zanetti says her light-weight, head-to-ankle costumes are the first to be streamlined down to a two-piece suit incorporating a head covering.

With Australian beaches full of girls in skimpy bikinis and revealing one-pieces, there was a "hole in the market that needed to be filled" for more modest beachwear, she said.

A hole in the market that needed to be filled......Yeah....I hear what you're saying. Jesus I'm hot just thinking about it. A surprise package not only when I'm doing my shopping at the market but when I'm by the ocean as well. My God every freaking day can be Christmas if only Islamic fashions would catch on.

So three cheers for the burkini. Or to put it another way......Giggidy giggity giggity........

Sunday, January 28, 2007

My Employer Has Found A New Way To Crush My Soul, Or I Have Taken The Last Short Step To Becoming Completely Insane. One Of The Two.

The flood that brought back the pain happened about mid-piss, and it had nothing to do with kidney stones. It was a flood of memories, and it was triggered by the fact that the bathroom had finally been cleaned. You see, it would seem my employer has changed the mixture of chemicals they use to sanitize the little boys room, and those that they now use, and I swear I am not making this up, smell a lot like the perfume an ex-girlfriend of mine used to wear.

An ex-girlfriend whose association with me did not end well. At all. Actually it was OK for her, but kinda bad for me. I'm over it now though.

Twitch.....twitch.....why are you looking at me like that? You've never seen a man chug scotch out of a bottle before? Totally over her......shake.....twitch.....

So half my brain was dealing with the memory flood, and the other half was determining it was highly implausible that this woman had ever spritzed a little bathroom cleaner on her pulse points before going out for the evening. This led me to the only logical conclusion possible:

My employer has specifically formulated the scent of it's disinfectant to further their goal of breaking me.

The good news is that the infrequency of their bathroom cleaning and the fact I get fewer and fewer chances to take advantage of the facilities amongst the ever increasing crush of pill seeking barbarians will work against their plan. I fully expect in the near future though, they will hire my ex-wife as a pharmacy tech and my alcoholic Dad as perhaps the store manager. My theory is that it saves them money somehow if they can drive me to suicide instead of just firing me or hiring a contract killer.

I only hope the drive will be a short one.

Saturday, January 27, 2007

On This Day Of National Protest, My Favorite Anti-War Tune

....which actually points out a very good reason I should be in favor of Mr. Bush's little Iraq adventure. Oh the irony. If you raised your voice today, the Drugmonkey salutes you. Check out Hard On For War on Drugmonkey radio.

Tonight's Moment Of Senatorial Irony.

From a speech given on the floor of the United States Senate Wednesday by 2004 Democratic presidential nominee John Kerry:


I've concluded that this isn't the time for me to mount a presidential campaign. It is the time to put my energy to work as part of the majority in the Senate, to do all I can to end this war *

Unlike when I was part of the minority in the Senate, when I voted to authorize this very war, unlike in 2003, when I cosponsored a resolution that not only declared this war "lawful and fully authorized" but also commended and supported "the efforts and leadership of the President, as Commander in Chief, in the conflict against Iraq," and unlike when I did run for president, against the man who actually started the war, the same man I commended and supported the year before, when I really did a lot less than I could of to stop or even speak out against this war. I vow from this moment on, to do all I can to undo the consequences of what I was a part of, for as long as the polls say it's a popular thing to do.**


Sometime between 1971 and 2002 a man decorated multiple times for bravery on the battlefield lost his spine and the willingness to lead. The sad part is this sellout would have been a vast improvement over what we have in the Oval Office at the moment.

We can do better. Let's get it right next time.

*words actually said by John Kerry

**words actually said by John Kerry in my imagination

Friday, January 26, 2007

Real Questions Get Real Answers, Crazy Questions Get Crazy Answers

"IS THIS FROM THE HOUSE OF GOD?????" He said as he put the box of Pepto-Bismol on the counter. The look in his eye wasn't quite right, he was wearing pajama bottoms and a t-shirt with a dinner-plate sized hole in the front. He was crazy. I don't mean stupid customer crazy, I mean doesn't know what planet he's on crazy.

I was in the 11th hour or a 12 hour shift and wasn't in the mood. During the 10th to 12th hours of a shift it's perfectly acceptable to fuck with crazy people.

"Third Presbyterian pew" I said, after sizing him up and determining his level of craziness. This was met with 10 seconds of intense silence.

"WHERE'S THE PRIMATINE MIST??????"

"Aisle three on the right, bottom shelf"

I'll be damned if the crazy dude didn't go right to the Primatine Mist, in stark contrast to every mentally healthy customer who's ever asked me where something is. Perhaps an unknown symptom of schizophrenia is the ability to follow directions, or maybe he was just having a really severe asthma attack that was shutting off oxygen to his brain and wasn't crazy at all.

He left the Pepto on the counter

Thursday, January 25, 2007

Highlights From Today's Pill Counting Action.

Actual Conversation With An Actual Customer:

Customer: Can I take my Amoxicillin with food?

Me: It won't affect how the medicine works one way or another.

When I am 87 years old and in the final stages of Alzheimer's disease, unaware of who or where I am, whisper softly in my ear "Should I take my Amoxicillin with food?" and I will mindlessly, monotonically, say "It won't affect how the medicine works one way or the other" That's how deeply the endless workday repetitions will have driven themselves into my brain.

Customer: "But what about my feelings?"

Me, thinking that I must not have been listening to the customer and had missed part of the conversation: "Excuse me?"

It will shock some of you to know that I am not the best of listeners at times.

Customer: "If I feel that the Amoxicillin will work better with food, then it will work better with food, right?"

Me: "No, it won't make a difference either way"

Customer: "Well I'm taking it with food"

Thanks for letting me know.....

Later a husband and wife dropped off a prescription for each of them. His was for Viagra. Hers was for Ambien, the wildly popular sleeping pill. Write your own joke here.........

And at the peak of bat-shit crazy busy time, a woman waited in line for 10 minutes, with a child maybe 3 years old screaming at the top of it's lungs, .....10 minutes of deafening child noise for her and everyone within a mile radius, so she could get to the cash register...........

.....and ask if we had any free calendars. There was particular emphasis on the word free. Of course the whole thing was shouted at a decibel level above that of the kid who was being given no incentive positive or negative to shut the fuck up, but yeah, free was the most important feature of her desired calendar.

There were no free calendars. From what I could tell the quest for one was the entire purpose of the woman's visit.

Release the scotch.......

Tuesday, January 23, 2007

I Figured Out How To Disable The Autoplay. Everybody Wins.

So 4 days into it, some people seemed to like the blog music, and some people didn't seem to like it so much. Actually some people really.......really hated it. I understood the pain of those that gave a thumbs down, and was ready to scrap the whole idea this afternoon.

Then I noticed in the HTML code what looked like a way to disable the autostart feature. Long story short, you now have to click on the "play" button to start the tunes. I can still share the story of the detachable penis with the world, but you will no longer be forced to hear it. I am nothing if not pro-choice, so this development makes me very happy. To celebrate, tonight I added a new track. Enjoy "Touch Me I'm Sick," but only if you choose to.

Monday, January 22, 2007

A Pathetic Plea To Lisa Gill, Editor, Retail Pharmacy Management

Hi Lisa, or should I call you Ms. Gill? I wouldn't want us to get off on the wrong foot....

First, I would like to thank you for taking the time to regularly send a copy of your publication, Retail Pharmacy Management, to my employer. It makes the 5 minutes I spend trying to eat half a sandwich while gulping down flat soda among the most enjoyable of my workday. Your publication isn't bad as far as the trade magazines go, but as an old baseball coach of mine once said, "The day you stop trying to get better is the day you start to become worse." I think you share this commitment to continual improvement, which is why I am writing you today with a modest proposal.

Take a look around my little blog garden here Ms. Gill. I don't want to sound immodest, but I think you will see I know my way around the English language. I can weave words into sentences into paragraphs into stories that can capture the attention of potential readers who are wandering by and make them stop, look, and read. If you click on the category "An Insiders View Of The Profession" you'll see I also have done some amateur pseudo-journalism, albeit with sources that are in the public domain. Imagine what I could do with the power of an organization such as Retail Pharmacy Management at my disposal. While my writing here may be a bit, shall we say, advocacy oriented, let me assure you that I have many years of experience in selling my soul to toe the corporate line once paychecks start showing up in my checking account. Or perhaps you like my current writing style and could see me as a younger, hipper, version of Drug Topics columnist Jim Plagakis. With me on your team Ms. Gill, we could totally take down those Drug Topics bastards and become the undisputed leader of the pharmacy trade publication world.

I would also point out that I do all my own copy editing here, and the dearth of typographical or grammatical errors on these pages shows you could be getting the value of two employees with only one hire.

Before you make your decision Ms. Gill, I would like to point out the most important characteristic I would bring to your organization. To do this, I am going to look intently into your eyes, so you will know that I am sincere:




I am a team player Ms. Gill, and I know the value of not rocking the boat so that the organization can move forward. Once a decision has been made, doing something like complaining about possible sexual harassment goes against the very core of my moral values. I would never complain about sexual harassment. You should also not underestimate how my eagerness, actually, desperation might not be too strong a word, to start a new career could benefit you and Retail Pharmacy Management. I would do anything to be a part of your team.

Anything.........

I look forward to your response.

Sincerely,

Drugmonkey

Saturday, January 20, 2007

People Who Can't Talk Their Doctors Into Giving Them Enough Vicodin Sure Don't Seem To Like Me Very Much.

So it seems like yours truly has been quite the hot topic of conversation over at drugbuyers.com. For those of you not familiar with the site, the url is pretty self explanatory. It's a series of message boards where people who just can't get enough narcotics locally can hook up with prestigious pain-management professionals such as youronlinedoctor.com, doctor-scripts.com, apainsolution.com, and yourpainmanagement.com. Somehow the Mayo Clinic seems not to be mentioned anywhere. Some sort of oversight I'm sure, as it is obvious this is the place to find the kind of top-notch medical care you just can't get with a real doctor, with a real license, and a real office. Someone who really likes to take narcotics for no other reason than the buzz, or because it keeps the bugs off their skin, would have no use for such a site.

Evidently one of the drugbuyers had their little feelings hurt by things I've written here and started a forum amongst the other drugbuyers. This did nothing to deflate my already massive ego. Here are some of my favorite comments:


WOW!!! Did you read through this nut jobs blog? This guy is not only seriously disturbed, but apparently also battles alcoholism. I can't believe this guy is allowed to handle pills, nonetheless dispense them!


Awesome! I have never heard anyone accuse Al Franken of being an alcoholic. Why can't you people write me hate mail like this? Do you have to have opiates staturating your bloodstream to really get the vile a flowin' ? Or do you have to be a pot calling a kettle black?

Nut jobs in every profession. Though this guy sure seems dangerous. Its types like this that we should put on watch lists.


Sweet! I'm a seriously disturbed dangerous alcoholic that you better keep an eye on at all times! Talk about pumping up your ego.... Back off if you see me a comin' bitch......I'm crazy I tell ya....

A couple more that those in the profession will just find funny:

Ive worked as a tech and am actually going back to school to get certified.. Ive never heard any pharmacist talk like that


I believe that as much as I believe drugbuyers.com is used only for legitimate medical purposes.

Hopefully I don't get stuck with this guy after I am done with school.They cant ALL hate their jobs this bad,can they?


You are in for an education my friend. It'll start the day school is done.

Go over and read their board if you must, but please, don't start a pointless flame war. I would much rather turn the wrath of the drugmonkey army loose on those that are truly evil, like Republicans. Remember these people are doing us a favor by getting their fix through the mail, as opposed to endangering our licenses with bullshit reasons why they need that early Soma refill.

Plus they gave me the nicest compliments I've had in years.

Friday, January 19, 2007

The Hypocrisy Continues. Introducing DrugMonkey Radio.

I have always hated blogs that automatically open an audio file upon viewing, so naturally I spent most of the night figuring out how to make mine do just that. I learned there are programs out there that allow one to put music on a blog without having it start automatically, but I'll be dammed if I could get any of them to work, so we're both stuck with this one, evidently the audio player for morons.

Anyway, I thought the song would be a nice companion piece to the post a couple places down from this one. I'm thinking about changing the tune every few days, but could still be talked out of the whole idea if you folks are violently opposed to the idea of demented DrugMonkey music while you read. Trust me. the stuff that'll take the place of David Lee will be demented. Lemmie know what you think.

Tonight I Lived The Fantasy of Every 12 Year Old Horny Beavis-Boy. Kind Of.

I NEED TO KNOW WHAT TO PUT ON THIS RASH!!!!!!!! Said the nice lady customer at the counter. The lady customer knew that it would be very important for me to see the rash in question. The rash was under her boob, and she was absolutely convinced I had to see it.

Yes, she whipped it out. Right in front of me, my trusty technician, the store manager, and the guy who wanted to know which aisle the laxatives were on. You can imagine the attractiveness of a woman who would do something like this. You wouldn't be wrong.

Now, I could have lost it, and a few years ago I more than likely would have. Time has taught me though, that the quickest way to get that thing out of my face was to remain calm. "I don't need to see it ma'am" I said, then asked a couple questions, suggested some Lotrimin cream, and for once was happy I had a job that ensured that I had not had a chance to eat anything for the last 10 hours. She had more trouble getting it back in than she had getting it out.

Over a decade behind the pharmacy counter and now I am not the least bit fazed when a random ugly woman unexpectedly whips out a yeast infected boob. I'm really not sure what that says about where I am in life.

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

A Confession From My Deepest Soul.

I am a music snob, and I make no apologies for this. If you're going to pick up an instrument and bother my ears then you better mean something pal. My music is Lou Reed painting an audio picture of the ugliness of heroin addiction. My music is Iggy Pop shoving a flower up the ass of the happy hippies of the 60's. Rage Against The Machine not taking any shit from the man, now there's some music for you. You play air-headed meaningless pop noise around me and you will be mercilessly mocked. Music when done right is the most valid of art forms and art has meaning goddamn it.

The hair bands were not art. Ratt. Poison. Motley Crue. If you lived through the late 80's you know what I'm sayin'. These poofball pretenders dominated radio and MTV airplay during my youth, and I fought their power with all the weapons an oily faced awkward adolescent could muster. I wrote a column in my high school newspaper whose sole purpose was to attack the Van Halen song "Panama." In the alpha-male pack culture that is life in a freshman college dorm hall, I was probably branded a suspected homosexual for arguing that "Girls Girls Girls" was a bigger waste of audiotape than recording your own flatulence. I never wavered in this struggle, and when Kurt Cobain came in 1992 to liberate small town red state top 40 radio from the clutches of hairspray, it was like the Messiah himself had finally arrived to lift me upward for the rapture. The hair bands have since been relegated to the dustbin of music history, where they belong.

My friends, all the while, the entire time I was fighting this fight so successfully, I had something in my closet:


That is a picture of David Lee Roth, the lead singer of Van Halen during their glory days. I own 1984, the Van Halen album which contains the song I so viciously attacked in that high school newspaper column. I also own Van Halen I and II, and I listen to them, when no one else is around and the curtains are closed. I once saw David Lee Roth perform at the Ohio State Fair after Van Halen had kicked him out of the rock and roll fast lane and into the gutter. I attended the show alone, and there were maybe 50 other people there. It was a terrible performance, and afterwards I went on a corn dog eating bender to try and forget. I secretly cheered when I heard the news that Van Halen is soon to be inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, and I am hoping against hope they won't let Sammy Hagar, Roth's pathetic pale imitation of a replacement, into the induction ceremony. Only one person in the real world knows of this part of my life, and I live in constant fear they will use this information against me. I am a hypocrite, and I am not proud. Before you judge me however, I ask only that you listen to the opening drum solo of "Hot For Teacher," not on an iPod, but on a cherry piece of vinyl through a turntable connected to speakers as tall as you are, the way it was meant to be heard. Listen, then throw the first stone if you must.

The human soul has a need to confess, and that need is why I am posting this tonight. Talk to me on the street tomorrow though, and I'll tell you Van Halen sucks, and you'll walk away convinced that I mean it.

Might as well jump.

Monday, January 15, 2007

Free At Last, They Took Your Life. They Could Not Take Your Pride.

At the danger of repeating myself, damn you used to come up with the best lines Bono. Used to.

In case you're wondering why there's no mail today, I'll tell you a little story that might go a ways towards explaining:

In 1965, some smart people in Selma, Alabama noticed something. Only around half of the people in their town were registered to vote, and it seemed that most of those that weren't were black folks. As smart as they were they couldn't seem to figure out why. They all knew Ninety-five years earlier these words were put into the United States Constitution, which meant there was no way the black folks could possibly be being kept from voting on purpose:

The right of citizens of the United States to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any State on account of race, color, or previous condition of servitude.


"Maybe it's some sort of typo", some thought. Others said that maybe no one bothered to tell the crackers in the state capital of Montgomery that these words had been put in the document that is the supreme law of this country. They knew the crackers weren't very smart, so maybe no one had bothered to explain to the crackers what the big words in the 15th Amendment actually meant. They decided to walk over to Montgomery to ask the crackers what was up. Here's what happened:





The man in the light coat on the ground is John Lewis. The cops were so jealous of how smart he was they fractured his skull trying to get a look at his brain. Later that year Congress passed the Voting Rights Act, which told the not so bright crackers in language they could understand that they had to let black folks vote. The end of the Voting Rights Act Reads:

"P.S. -We mean it this time. Seriously."


There's one more picture I want you to see that will tell you how the story ended. Take a look:



That's Congressman John Lewis getting sworn in this month to his 10th term by Speaker of The House Nancy Pelosi. That's right my friends, today the Drugmonkey actually told you a story with a happy ending. May you remember it long after the bills resume their flight to your mailbox.

Saturday, January 13, 2007

Those Of You In The Profession Won't Have To Read This Post To Laugh. Just Look At The Picture And Know This Is A Real Store In My Local Mall.

I have not cropped or altered this picture in any way. It's an actual store that sells women's underwear.


Employee #1: Why does that scary-looking dude keep coming in here babbling about how his dog ate his medicine and wanting us to call his doctor?

Employee #2: I dunno, but a friend of mine works in the New York store and she says the same thing happens there.

"It's almost like this whole chain is a magnet for freaks for some reason"

Explanation for non-medical people: Soma is the brand name for a muscle relaxant that is a tiny step up from street junk. Drug abusers use it as a "booster" med to add to the effects of opiates such as codeine or Vicodin, resulting in doctors and pharmacists hearing constant stories about how someones Soma got "lost" in ways that blood pressure or diabetes meds never seem to. Among health-care workers, the mere mention of the word "Soma" will send their blood pressure up an average of 15 points. Some marketing genius thought this would be the perfect way to sell underwear.

Wednesday, January 10, 2007

The Important Thing Is That I Know The Old Woman Isn't A Slut.

"The lady on line 1 says she needs to talk to the pharmacist" said my trusty tech. "She says it's very important."

"Probably needs my clinical experience to find out why her co-pay went up" was my reply. At that moment, the cynicism born on the day I applied to pharmacy school officially sank all the way through my bone marrow.

I gave the call "high" priority, which meant it was 2 or 3 minutes before I could complete all my "super high" priority tasks and get to it. Here's how it went:

Me: Hi, this is the pharmacist, may I help you?

Customer: HELLO?

Me: Hello ma'am, this is the pharmacist.....

Customer: IS THIS THE PHARMACIST?

Me: Yes ma'am

Customer: I NEED TO TELL YOU SOMETHING.......CAN YOU HEAR ME??????

Me: Yes ma'am. Go ahead.

Customer: I GOT THIS SUBSCRIPTION FROM YOU TODAY.......A.......Y........C........L.....O....................
........................I.....R.....

The woman was trying to spell out Acyclovir. I remembered filling it now. You don't forget a voice like this.

Me: Ok...you had a question about it?

Customer: NO!!! IT SAYS HERE ON MY PAPER THAT YOU CAN USE THIS FOR HERPES. I WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT I'M TAKING IT FOR SHINGLES!!!!!!!!! I'M A CHRISTIAN AND I'M NOT LIKE THAT.

There was absolutely no point in telling this woman that shingles are caused by a type of herpes virus. There was also really no need to tell her that back when I was a man hoochie and wanted an easy lay, I went not to the bars in the party district, but to the nearest mega-church. This call had already cost me 5 minutes of my life I would never get back.

Me: I see...ok then....thanks for calling.....

Customer: DO YOU GET A LOT OF PEOPLE WITH HERPES?

Even the biggest prude will have a voyeuristic side. Part of me wanted to fuck with her and say that herpes prescriptions were going through the roof. I had a couple people lined up seeking explanations of their co-pays though, and chose the route I knew would be the quickest escape.

Me: Not as many as we used to.

Customer: WELL THAT'S GOOD. DO YOU SELL FILM FOR 110 CAMERAS?

Nothing else I did in my entire work day was done with as much enthusiasm as transferring this lady to the camera department.

Pharmacy Art Picture #2

Your prescription is the most important thing we'll do all day. That's why we dump your pills into this thing by the thousands so they can be shot into your bottle with as little effort as possible.

Not all of them end up in your bottle of course. We end up cleaning maybe a hundred or so out of the bottom of the machine every week.

Look at the picture and see the corporate vision of progress.

Our First President Could Not Tell A Lie. Our Current President Probably Could.

Been awhile since I've done one of my undeniably partisan but irrefutably true political posts. Let's take a look at what Bush the Death Merchant had to say about his Iraq adventure a mere 18 months ago:

"Sending more Americans would undermine our strategy of encouraging Iraqis to take the lead in this fight. And sending more Americans would suggest that we intend to stay forever, when we are, in fact, working for the day when Iraq can defend itself and we can leave."
- George Bush, 6/28/05


That's a word per word quote my friends. I want you to remember that when you hear what the Death Merchant says in his nationwide address later on tonight. Also remember that John Kerry was supposed to be the flip flopper.

All right, maybe that wasn't fair. It's possible Bush isn't flip-flopping at all. Maybe what he really wants to do is undermine our strategy of encouraging Iraqis to take the lead. Maybe he also wants to suggest that we intend to stay forever, and what he said earlier about working for the day when we can leave was an outright lie. Flip flopper or liar, I suppose it could be either one. Whichever it is though, I'm not so sure you made the wisest choice in putting this guy in office America.

Of course if you remember, I tried to tell you that at the time.

Monday, January 08, 2007

I'm Thinking About Trying To Convince The ONU Alumni Association That I'm Dead

I've written earlier about the people-tracking prowess of Ohio Northern University and how they use this awesome power to become a constantly annoying buzzing little gnat in the ear of their graduates. True story, they once called while I was being.....um....intimate with one of my old girlfriends. I could hear some poor work study drone reciting their fundraising script into my answering machine while I was gettin' my groove on. I find it quite the testament to my manhood I was able to maintain a boner throughout the whole pitch.

Fast forward to today. My relationship with the alumni association has proven to be far more durable than any I've had with girlfriends or wives. Hate always trumps love, and annoyance always comes out on top of pleasure. Welcome to my life. Today the mail brought the latest copy of the ONU alumni magazine, which I couldn't help but notice contained a large obituary section. I bet the dead alumni don't get junk mail or phone spam. I see an opportunity here. Thing is, how does one get word to a small town college alumni office that my whole body, and not just my wiener, is now stiff as a board? I mean, it's not like I could fill out the "what's new with you" section of the alumni website to let them know I've been hit by a truck. The only thing I can think of would be to include them in a suicide note. Of course to be effective, I would then have to commit suicide.

It might be a plan.

Saturday, January 06, 2007

Once Again, The Very Blog Your Eyes Behold At This Moment Has Changed The Course Of History

First, it was tricking millions of Republicans into staying home on election day. Now, thanks to the Drugmonkey, many thousands of overweight, diabetic psychotics may get some measure of justice from Eli Lilly, the company that knew it was making people fat and insulin resistant, but chose to try and hide the lard it was creating from your doctor. Less than a month after I told you about Eli Lilly's skulduggery, I am happy to share with you this bit of news, as reported by The New York Times:

Eli Lilly agreed yesterday to pay up to $500 million to settle 18,000 lawsuits from people who claimed they had developed diabetes or other diseases after taking Zyprexa, Lilly’s drug for schizophrenia and bipolar disorder.

Including earlier settlements over Zyprexa, Lilly has now agreed to pay at least $1.2 billion to 28,500 people who said they were injured by the drug.


In a press release announcing the settlement, Sidney Taurel, Chairman of The Board and CEO of Lilly said:

"The payment by Eli Lilly and Company of a cumulative amount equal to 63% of our profit in fiscal year 2005 is in no way to be perceived as an admission of wrongdoing. We just had some extra cash laying around and figured, what the hell, why not start writing checks to people whom we have not harmed in any way? It's kind of a good feeling really, kind of like that old TV show, Lottery! We like it so much that at the next board meeting, we're going to take up the topic of becoming a non-profit corporation"*

As for me, I am still sorting through my thoughts at having successfully taken on a muti-billion dollar corporation and emerging with such a complete and stunning victory. While I am pleased at this turn of events, and surprised at how quickly I was able to bring a measure of fairness to those who were wronged, I must say that I have learned a valuable lesson about the power I wield behind this keyboard. While I have used this power only for good to this point, I realize tonight I must be ever vigilant never to do something irresponsible, like mentioning how much I hate Lloyd Duplantis, and telling the world he lives in Gray, Louisiana.

You have my solemn pledge dear readers. The Drugmonkey will do no evil.

(*These words were actually said in my imagination, but the profit percentage is from the reality based world)

Friday, January 05, 2007

Best Comment Ever.

"-- you're retarded. and i'm gay. let's get married."


It actually would be a sounder basis for a relationship than me and the ex-wife had.....

Coincidentally, that came in the same batch as the worst comment ever:

"Do drugstore pharmacist have to go to school to get their job?"

Jesus H. I don't even know where to start with that one. Some nights the scotch just isn't enough.

Thursday, January 04, 2007

A Late Night Scotch-Fueled Disney Mystery

Were Pluto and Goofy both dogs? I could see Goofy being a horse, and it would really make more sense if he were, because if he were a dog, that's not a healthy relationship he's got there with Pluto. It would be like he found some retard dog and made him his slave. That's not cool.

This is really bugging me, but I am way too drunk to look anything up right now.

Why doesn't Donald Duck wear pants? Should he really be allowed near children?

Daisy Duck doesn't wear pants either, but she does wear heels. This is getting too weird.

More scotch.......

Wednesday, January 03, 2007

Congratulations Ma'am, You Are Now The Biggest Idiot Of The New Year. Would You Like A Barf Bag?

An actual conversation with an actual customer on the first business day after New Year's, traditionally the busiest day of the year in the pharmacy business. A day when many people switch insurance coverage, resulting in up to hour long waits to get through to insurance plan help desks. The gravy on the mashed potatoes this day being that the computers at the store crashed as well:


Me: Ma'am. we went to bill your insurance and they rejected the claim saying your coverage was terminated. Did they send you a new card by chance?

Customer: Well, yes they did, but I know it's the same insurance so I threw the card away.

At that moment I could not even begin to tell this woman how screwed she was. The prescription was for Zofran, an anti-nausea med. Retail price, $460. Someone was totally gonna be doing some pukin'.........

Tuesday, January 02, 2007

Hate Mail Done Right

From the blog of my favorite radio show ever, The Al Franken Show on Air America. This on a day when Al was away and Billy the sidekick was filling in:

From: Ur a dick [mailto:yousuck@theallnitegaybar.suckit]
Sent: Tue 12/12/2006 12:17 PM
To: The Al Franken Show
Subject: Website Feedback: You are awful

Though I can take Franken's drunken rambling nonsense when I get high enough, no matter how much marijuana I smoke, no matter how many beers I drink, no matter how much masturbating I do, I can't bring myself to enjoy anything when you're on the air. Put something better on, like have Melanie Sloan fart on the mic to the national anthem

Drugmonkey haters, I post this as a direct challenge to you. I've been at this almost two years now, and not one of you has ever written a piece of hate mail that can hold the jock strap of these words. I realize every time I open my e-mail box it's not because you're not trying, but you can't seem to get past "why don't you just do your job and shut the fuck up?" or a comment along the lines that you would gladly put up with my workday in exchange for my paycheck. BOR-ING. Some of you who take issue with my politics will occasionally repeat things you've heard on the Rush Limbaugh or Bill O'Reilly show, evidently thinking that Rush and Bill talk only to you and don't broadcast over the public airwaves where millions of people, including me, can hear what they have said. A quality hate mail of the type Al Franken gets seems to be utterly beyond your capability.

Perhaps I am to blame. Maybe I have not been quite opinionated enough. Maybe those I hate (I'm looking at you Lloyd Duplantis of Gray, Louisiana) don't know how I really feel about them. On the other hand, perhaps I have done my job too well. Maybe when those who don't agree with me see my words of wisdom, my well documented chronicle of the error of their ways, they understand just how wrong they are and have no choice but to begin agreeing with me, leaving only the mentally retarded to oppose my view. Maybe. I am more inclined to think though, that people who hate Al Franken are just smarter than people who hate me.

Prove me wrong bitches. My birthday is coming up soon. Send me a hate mail done right to celebrate.

My Life Is Taking On The Feel Of Gilligan's Island

I don't have to remind you I'm sure, how in the classic TV series week after week Gilligan and his fellow castaways allowed themselves to get their hopes up about an apparent opportunity to finally escape the desert island that imprisoned them, perhaps with a scheme involving a ham radio constructed out of a coconut, processed sand, and a rare jewel owned by the millionaire's wife, only to have their dreams dashed by the end of the half-hour again and again. Through it all though, Ginger always managed to look fabulous. I think I may have popped my first little boy boner watching Ginger after school one afternoon.

I wrote recently how I had hopes that the gates of hell would deliver me from my own retail pharmacy desert island, but just like when Gilligan would do something like drop the coconut radio into the ocean, it wasn't meant to be. The other day though, I had this left as a comment to my recent post about the ONU alumni office and their less than impressive free luggage tag offer:

In A#$%&*stan, we gave out business cards to tribal chiefs with their name on it...they thought they were cool.

They would give out their cards to other chiefs...by examining the network of card exchanges, we could track people and their contacts. Often, dead Taliban guys would have many of the cards of our contacts.

Thank God! I had finally attracted the attention of the feds with my little blog garden! I wondered what took them so long. I mean, after all, Certainly my ability to attract up to 500 hits a day with my occasional anti-war writing makes me more of a threat than the Quakers or a University of Santa Cruz Banana Slug. It was honestly starting to bruise my ego that I hadn't been picked up for at least a little questioning by now. This comment though, seemed to be a sign that things were looking up. Some quality time in sunny Guantanamo Bay Cuba could be in my future if I played my cards right. Fantasies of time in solitary confinement, away from all customers and other annoyances of the general public, started dancing through my head like sugarplums. There was the matter of waterboarding however, which even though it does not involve a customer in any way, I was still sure wouldn't be a pleasant experience. I started to concoct a cover story about members of the Houston Astros baseball team and a dirty bomb that I hoped would stop the dipping of the Drugmonkey should it come to that. I was ready, so ready, for my tropical pharmacy-free vacation.

Gradually of course I realized the comment was more than likely left by a well-meaning grunt just trying to keep me away from the clutches of the ONU alumni office, and my heart broke yet again. If I remember correctly though, Gilligan and friends did eventually get off that island in a special made for TV movie. Hope springs eternal.

Monday, January 01, 2007

December 17th, That Was My Last Day Off

I know what you're thinking. How on earth was I able to maintain such a steady output of high-quality and incredibly interesting blog posts while working non-stop for almost half a month, many days involving 12 hour shifts, and simultaneously acquiring and fighting off a head cold?

The answer: I have a gift, that's how. Enjoy it, but tomorrow I'm sleeping all day.

Goodnight fuckers.

This Is What Happens When A Nurse Comes To The Counter.

Actual conversation with an actual customer:

Customer: "I know there's an over the counter med that's like Nexium"

Had I known she was a nurse, I wouldn't have answered yet, as I would have known more was coming.

Me: "Prilosec, it's a slightly different form of Nexium"

Nurse Customer: "You know, not like Ranitidine, or the H-2 inhibitors"

Me: "Prilosec. It's down aisle 2 on the right hand side."

I had made the mistake of answering before I could be sufficiently impressed with her drug knowledge.

Nurse Customer: "A proton-pump inhibitor"

You see, I had to be informed that she knew what a proton pump inhibitor was.

Me: "You mean Pepcid?" I now knew that if this woman was ever going to leave, it had to be established that *I* was the one who wasn't listening.

Nurse Customer: "No, not an H-2 inhibitor, the class like Nexium"

Me: "Prilosec"

Nurse Customer: "They're better for chronic heartburn you know"

Me: "Sounds like your talking about the Prilosec, it's down aisle 2"

I'm still not sure if the nurse came into the store with the intention of buying some Prilosec or the intention of telling me everything she knew about it.