Down Christmas Memory Lane, Part 2

A Tribute To Frosty, The Most Selfless Of Water-Based Life Forms.

Original blogpost airdate December 16, 2008

He kept up appearances for the children. That is the epitaph to remember Frosty The Snowman by always. Frosty loved the children.

Frosty knew the sun was hot that day. He knew his fate. But Frosty chose to spend what remained of his time living, not dying. He took his broomstick and he ran here and there, around the square, leading the nation's children into a rebellion not of street gangs, violent crime, teenage pregnancy or any of the other social ills that plague our youth, but a rebellion of joy.

He even paused for a moment when the town square's traffic cop called for him to stop, for Frosty was at his core a good and decent soul.

Frosty is gone now, a victim of seasonal change and global warming. Most of his corpse is scattered in the vast nothingness of this planet's oceans, some of it refroze and may be trapped glacially for millennia, some is locked underground, and some may be carrying away the sewage of the fetid masses of humanity, but the magical moment he gave our children will never die. Which is why I hope.... no, which is why I know, that someday Frosty will know the magic that is a trip over Yosemite falls.

I think I may have just peed out a piece of Frosty.

Down Christmas Memory Lane, Part One

Original blogpost airdate, December 17, 2007

If I Were Rudolph The Reindeer, I Would Have Told Santa To Go Fuck Himself.

I would have been like. "You bastards have given me shit my whole life and NOW you want me to bail you out?? You can kiss my reindeer ass"

Then I would have been like "You know, while I was excluded and ostracized all those years, I worked on a few reindeer games of my own, since you would never let me play any of yours" There would be a crazy look in my eye.

Then I would take off and fly around in circles while Dancer and Prancer and the rest of those asswipes sat grounded with all the undeliverable toys on the shipping dock. Every once in awhile I would swoop down and kick them in the head or maybe bite them in the back while yelling "WHAT CHA THINK OF MY NOSE NOW MUTHA FUCKER?? TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK OF MY NOSE!!!!!"

I guess that wouldn't be a good way to mark Jesus' birthday though. I mean, hell, Jesus would never punish you years after the fact for being a bad person.

I don't think I can take listening to those songs at work for another week.

My Non Freudian Dream.

I wasn't an athlete in high school. Not even close. It wasn't like I was undersized, uncoordinated, a lame polio survivor or anything like that. As a matter of fact, I held my own pretty well on the playground in elementary school, but by the time we were old enough for the sports to be organized, the practice fields were 12 miles from my little rural house of isolation and a Dad who put in long hours in the plastic factory meant they might as well of been on the other side of the world. Gradually I became one of the last kids to be picked for gym class teams and I realized if I were ever to blast away from Appalachia my best hope would be to fire up my nuclear powered brain.

I'm not bitter about it, but I always thought if I would have had a chance, I could have developed some moves on the field, or court or course or whatever.

Last night in my dream I was on my high school basketball team. There was the actual basketball coach from my old high school telling me he'd put me in for a few minutes, but when I was on the bench, I was to sit in an old, beat up, ready to fall down folding chair, unlike the rest of the kids who got to sit in real chairs.

During warm ups, all my practice shots bounced right off the basket because there was a plastic cover over the hoop. I pointed out to coach that if it weren't for the plastic cover all my shots would be hitting nothing but net. He didn't seem impressed.

Sure enough, at an unimportant part of the game, coach told me to get my ass in there. A couple minutes later I unexpectedly found a ball whizzing towards my head. I caught it and whipped it towards the hoop. Nothing but net baby. I had scored. A meager two points, yes, but the most incredible feeling in the world.

Maybe I really could compete here.

That basket got me another chance and I hit the hoops again. My teammates kept testing me and I kept up the scoring. Gradually it became apparent that this wasn't a fluke. Not only could I hang for a bit, I could make it. I could own this world.

In my dream though, I kept sitting in that piece of crap chair, no matter how big I got. Because I always wanted to be reminded of what it felt like to have no one believe in you. I wanted to remember always what it was like to be motivated by a world of haters and use that to spur myself forward.

It took me a couple hours at the store today to figure out that dream. You see, according to the Quickbooks, two of my first three months have been profitable. I've found a ball whizzing towards my head and managed to take a shot at the hoop. Finally, I've found my chance and that first shot has sunk into the net. A mere two points, yes, but maybe... I really can compete here.

I just hope I have the equivalent of that crappy chair somewhere. Something that will keep my head from getting too big:

I believe you voted for Obama Bin Laden TWICE! You get what you pay for. Pelosi must be your rep because "we have to pass it to find out what's in it." Fortunately, you are an independent, so that means you can't bite the hand that feeds you, like you did at Rite-Aid. You are now having to realize what business is all about, and that ObamaCommiecare will threaten ALL small businesses. Sevres you Rite. You'll be asking for Aid when selling your files to Walgreens (oh the irony). (Actual piece of hate mail from a fan in Florida who writes in regularly) 

I'm thinking that won't be a problem. I wish my chair wasn't quite so insane though.

My Annual Heartfelt Tribute To The Christmas Spirit.

Original blogpost airdate, December 28, 2009. Also can be found in my awesome book, perfect as a Christmas gift to appease that son of god prick. Still time to order now for X-mas delivery. 


You know, for someone who professes to love us all, you'd think that maybe the thought our time could be worth a little something might enter Jesus' skull once or twice. That maybe Jesus could tell us, "You know, there's no need to go all out for my birthday. Really. Me and my Dad, the all knowing, omnipotent creator of universes known and unknown, the Deity that can part seas with his breath, move mountains with his pinky and knows the exact number of hairs on your head, I'm sure we'll come up with something. Don't put yourself out just on my account."

"And there is really no need to invent The Clapper to sell in the season of my special day. You work too hard for your money."

That's what my Uncle Harold would say. Uncle Harold always insisted we never make a big deal about his birthday, because that was just the kind of guy Harold was. Unlike this prick Jesus who pretty much ruined my whole week with this Christmas shit.

And by whole week I mean entire month of December. And part of November as well. Traffic gets backed up because of a goddamn parade. People everywhere I want to shop. A big pile of pine trees right where I normally park my car at work. All because this savior of mankind lets it go straight to his head.

I got news for you Jesus. I once saved the life of a mouse we found in the backroom of the store. That's right. Instead of killing it, I captured the little guy and let him loose in the woods in back of the mall. And I don't expect the mouse to buy shit every year for my birthday either. I think maybe I could teach you a thing or two about humility Mr. Son of God.

The sad thing is it's not just me that gets screwed. The entire goddamn planet has to put their lives on hold just for Jesus every year. Fuck it makes me so mad. I got over birthdays when I was like 9, and Jesus still gets all giddy like a girl after 2000 of them? Give me a break.

Buddhism looks better every day. No wonder there are so many Buddhists.

A Random Tribute To The Era Of Flower Power

Peace, love, happiness, and standing up to the man. The 60's had it all my friends. Free love, acid, Woodstock, and political conventions that were far more than week long informercials.

It wasn't all groovy vibes, art, and music though. It seems like every major band of the era had a member that didn't make it. Keith Moon of The Who, Brian Jones of The Stones......

Actually, maybe only two major bands of the era had a member that didn't make it. And Keith Moon lasted until 1978.

Never mind.

Another Video Warning To Each And Every Pharmacy Student Across This Land. This Is What You Are Lining Up For.

1) My question is, why didn't they just transfer her prescriptions? Cause I gotta tell you, when I was in retail hell, that was something a lady like this never would have had to say twice.

2) The bland, soothing music in the background is a nice touch. "Heartbreak Hotel" isn't a bad choice for the soundtrack either.

3) Pharmacy students of the world, you will deal with this at least once a year over the course of your career. Probably more often. Merry Christmas.

From The Mailbag, Five Years Later, A Guess As Good As Any

Hardcore fans of the Drugmonkey will remember the Christmas present that baffled me. I wrote about it in the blog a few years back and included a chapter on it in my awesome book. In short, a customer who used to drop off little Christmas presents every year once gave me a manicure set. A mystery manicure set. It didn't come with instructions you see, and while some parts of it were self explanatory enough, there were some utensils that completely stumped this college graduate and Mensa member. Here's a picture of the mystery implements:

Many things have changed since I wrote that original post. I escaped chain "pharmacy" hell and became a responsible business owner. I moved from the liberal bastion of Coastal California into the embrace of the Sierras, I met and will soon marry the most awesomest woman on the planet.

But I still have no idea what these things are. Not a clue. And I'm still worried that customer gave them to me to correct some hygiene or grooming problem that makes me less than smokin' hot.

The other day though, I got this in my mailbox:

Hello, 

My name is Xxxxxx. I’ve been in the Navy for about 3 and a half years, and close to the time of me getting out, I have taken an interest in pharmacy. Looking up various books about the field, I found your book entitled “Why Your Prescription Takes So Damn Long to Fill.” I’m still reading it, although so far I’ve enjoyed it. Although I am no doctor, I can relate to dealing with the stupidity of the general public in retail. In regards to the mysterious tools in the manicure set, the one to the far right with the split pieces of metal, I’d say it was something used to stick inside a dick hole, and the pieces of metal keep the hole in the meat helmet spread open and stay open, maybe allowing an easier going STD test. That’s my best guess. Hopefully I could help.

Yes Mr. X.,  help you did indeed. Because that's the most plausible suggestion I've had to date. Which means now I can worry that I give off the appearance of a syphilis-wrecked shell of a man in desperate need of help. That's way better than just thinking I might be less than the ultimate piece of man meat.

I hope my fiancee' doesn't see this.

Nation Prepares For The Annual Running Of The Tools.

Blogpost original air date, November 24, 2011


BETONVILLE, AR- From the small town Sears to major shopping destinations in cities around the country, excitement filled the air today as millions readied themselves for the start of the annual shopping season that begins tonight with the Running of The Tools. This years Tool Run is expected to begin as early as midnight at retailers in all 50 states, as dullards of every stripe gather to test their mettle in competition with what passes for human beings these days in an effort to score a discounted price on electronics, clothing, toys, and other miscellaneous crap that will most likely end up in a landfill within a year.

"We used to call it the running of the sheeple" said Wal-Mart Vice President Johnnie C. Dobbs. "but then we realized that sheep, unlike the crowds of barbarians that gather in front of our stores every year, very rarely get violent when crammed together in large herds."

Dobbs then climbed to the top of corporate headquarters and tossed 10 vouchers good for $100 off any laptop computer to the crowd below "just to give them a little taste of blood" One person's eyes were gouged out in the resulting melee.

While the precise origin of The Running of The Tools is unclear, archaeological research indicates it may have begun as part of a ritual of giving thanks for the sweatshop laborers whose work producing plastic disposable trinkets makes it possible for Americans to maintain a standard of living unmatched in the history of humanity.

Actually, "living" is probably the wrong word to use there.

In that spirit of thanks, Tool Run participants across the country this year will pause for a moment of silence to honor Jdimytai Damour, the Wal-Mart employee trampled to death under a frenzied crowd of Tools desperate to get rid of their money in 2008.

Not really. There will be absolutely no recognition of what happened to Mr. Damour tonight. Except possibly among the people who loved him.

"Unless you come from the dark place inhabited by these people's souls, the significance of the Tool Running can be hard to understand" said Dr. Glen Nealon, author of GET YOUR HANDS OFF THAT DVD PLAYER!! Tools And The Ascension Of Consumption As The Basis Of The Modern Economy "In the absence of meaningful relationships based on caring and consideration, worthy cultural outlets, or any other type of intellectual stimulation, the life of a Tool soon devolves into a search for meaning through competition for material symbols of status, and they are willing to risk almost anything to fill the vast void of nothingness that is their existence."

"HOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!! I'M GONNA GET ME A PLAY STATION FOR SEVENTY-FIVE BUCKS!!!!!" said local Tool Jacob Hatfield, who said he had been waiting in front of a Target store for 36 hours. He also added that if we even thought about barging in line in front of him, we could expect to be cut.

Reached in the eternal glory that is heaven, the almighty Jesus sobbed softly when asked for comment.

From The Pages Of Pills-A-Go-Go. The Best Piece Of Drug Swag Ever.

It's exactly what it looks like my friends. A shit-inspiring CD from the makers of the country's leading vegetable laxative. Get the food a-flowing with tunes from REO Speedwagon, Toto, Eddie Money and Rick Springfield.

What do you suppose those bands had to do to get onto their record company's literal shit list? BRRRRAAAAAHAHHHAAAHHHHAAAHHAAAAAA.........

Anyway, like I said, I got the tip to this little gem from Pills-A-Go-Go. Which I'm starting to think just may be the best book ever. You can buy a copy of both book and CD from Amazon. At least for now. 'Cause I just snapped up the next to last copy of the shit music.

Drugmonkey, I Love Love Love Your Book, But You Don't Write As Much Now That You're A Responsible Business Owner, What's A Person To Do?

I hear you my friends, and I feel your pain so much I went out and found another book to ease your withdraw symptoms. I love this book my friends. I. Love. This. Book. I could waste your time explaining why, or I could just put up an excerpt and let you see for yourself. From "pills-a-go-go" by Jim Hogshire.

Buy a copy of it right now.

Pill-hounds are not only the ones who hate pharmacists: practically everybody hates them. In turn, pharmacists hate everyone back and, for that brief moment when they are in charge of your medical treatment, they will jack you around out of pure spite. 

A pharmacist shuffling papers behind his altar-like counter won't look up when you arrive. He won't even grunt before he's good and ready to peer down at you and acknowledge your existence. Then he will make you talk out loud about your medical problems. Sometimes, he will challenge your prescription. Hmmmmm, you got the clap, dontcha? Prozac, eh? Don't look depressed to me. Isn't it a little early for you to be refilling this codeine? In fact, I'm not sure you should have any more codeine. He will make you grovel. That's what he lives for. 

How did the pharmacist become so odious? Does pharmacy inherently attract people who naturally seethe with inner malice while maintaining a stony facade? Are they born this way or does something happen to them? Unfortunately, there is no evidence that pharmacists have a genetic problem. Like sadistic prison guards, they are largely creations of their surroundings. Something about the job ruins them. 

THE BIG SCAM
The sadistic process of twisting a pharmacist's psyche begins in college. Pharmacy school is rough--you can't get through it without advanced calculus, chemistry and super dedication. Pharmacy school lasts at least five years. And it costs a lot. 

No one would endure pharmacy school for the chance to count pills, let alone to be hated by customers and held in contempt by doctors. So, to make students cram pharmacokinetics (which they will never use on the job), the schools tell big, outright lies. They promise that their graduates will be liked, and will hold an esteemed position in medicine, in society even. 

Students are told again and again about the high degree of trust placed upon pharmacists by patients and doctors. They see pictures of kindly people in smooth coats holding up test-tubes and being beamed at by old ladies. They are shown photocopies of a folklorish survey indicating how certain professions are trusted. Pharmacists, they see, are only a notch or two below Supreme Court Justice--and far above a doctor. 

This is the opposite of reality, of course, which just makes the hoax crueler. When you see a pharmacy student, what you are looking at is someone who just wants to be liked and valued by their community, slaving away for respectability and honor they will never get. 

THE SUCKER PUNCH
The reality of pharmacy is that it is a service industry, not much different than a dry cleaners. Pharmacists are not pillars of the community, they are pill-counters and stock boys. And respect? Please. 

Instead of being part of a benevolent triangle of medical care, the pharmacist finds himself at the butt end of an abusive process nobody likes. It probably doesn't take more than one day on the job to show a newly minted pharmacist that he or she has been tricked, and it's little wonder pharmacists are five times as likely to kill themselves than the average person, or that only psychiatrists (narrowly) finish before pharmacists in the sad race for most suicidal profession. 

Think about it: customers arrive at the pharmacy because they have been hurt or are sick. They have already made the trek to the doctor's office, lost a day of work, been kept waiting and charged a hundred bucks to spend three minutes with a doctor who hands them a piece of paper. Now they have taken the bus to the drugstore and are about to be appalled by the money they are going to shell out to this grump behind a counter so high it makes them feel like a three-year-old. They are not happy to be there. They are, in fact, quite unhappy. And nothing the pharmacist does is going to make them happy. But--too bad--the pharmacist isn't all that content himself. He's been swindled so badly he's never going to trust anyone again. 

The collision between sick, ripped-off patient and tired, ripped-off pharmacist is as predictable, and mean, as a cockfight. The customer grumbles at the pharmacist, asks some ridiculous question--or any question at all--and the pharmacist sneers and usually doesn't respond. The phone is ringing. The people standing in line start clearing their throats. The pharmacist shoots a few withering looks, then doles out the pills. Slowly. Sufficiently abased, the customer begins to limp home. The pharmacist waits for more abuse. Since old people take the most medicine, the majority of his customers are old people--cranky old people who complain about prices and ask the same stupid questions a thousand times a day. This is just more gravel in the pharmacist's shoes. 

There are no test-tubes in sight. No mortar and pestles, no hand-in-hand work with the doctor. In fact, there are no real prescriptions anymore. A clerk in a pizza joint has a more complex job than a pharmacist. Doctors prescribe ready-made medicines, often by brand name. Doctors decide if a generic can be substituted. The pharmacist just gets the right bottle of pills and starts counting. Substitute birdseed for the pills, and a competent pigeon could do your pharmacist's job. There is simply no pharmacy going on in a pharmacy. All those nights of midnight oil, learning absorption rates of alkenes into mucous membrane mean nothing now. That was just the price for a pill-selling license. And pharmacy school didn't breathe a word of this. 

Neither did the school teach any of the practical skills the pharmacist genuinely needs. They didn't teach how to run a cash register, or catch shoplifters, or even how to identify pills. Pharmacy students can draw the molecular structure of almost any drug but cannot visually ID or even name the top twenty pills they will sell. Then there's pill-counting--the most obvious part of pharmacy drudgery. Just how much organic chemistry is necessary to count pills? This is even more humiliating since the number of pills in a bottle is one of the few things a pharmacist/pigeon can screw up. It's also something the old bag snapping about high prices can and will check. 

Of course, as the years grind by under the fluorescent lights behind the silly counter, the pharmacist eventually learns all this. But it's all on-the-job, hard-gained knowledge. And in learning it, hearts are broken. All the bad land sold in Florida cannot have caused the pain a single pharmacist feels by the time you see him there among the pills. 

PILL COUNTERS VERSUS DOCTORS
Pharmacists are not taught to read doctor handwriting, which is unfortunate because all the jokes about this subject are true: most doctors really do have shitty handwriting and the inability to read it can lead to serious mistakes. People have been killed by script fuck-ups and pharmacists commonly mis-dispense drugs due to errors in reading the prescription. Then they get sued and kicked out of the business forever. The doctor, of course, is unaffected. 

So this is a very real problem. But calling the doctor's office for clarification of a prescription just makes the pharmacist a pest. The receptionist treats him like an irritant. The doctor treats him like an idiot. Should the pharmacist have any other "problems" with a prescription, he comes dangerously close to questioning the doctor's wisdom--and may incur the doctor's wrath. And doctors are often angry, angry people with a lot of resentments of their own about the way their educations turned out and the way society views them. So the brittle ego of a pharmacist will not allow him to risk calling a doctor every time he thinks there's something wrong with a script. Mostly, the pharmacist just lives with the fear and uncertainty, which only adds to his or her time-bomb-like personality.

The rest of the book is less pharmacist specific, but as the title promises, full of pill type subversive goodies. You will learn and you will laugh. You will be offended, because if a writer isn't offending someone than he is probably boring. In a prefect world you could use your APhA discount to get it. As it is though, the APhA strives for nothing but non-offensiveness, so you'll have to pay full retail .

You won't regret it one bit. You're welcome.

There's Nothing Like A Good Hatemail To Warm The Heart. But Once Again, I Have To Work With What I Can Get.

To the  hatemail bag we go.....

Yeah cry me a river about the results from shoving addictive chemicals down people throats. And pain killers require addictive chemicals right, what a load of crap. I asked a few doctors why the narcotics and everyone of them told me it's to deal with mental aspect of being in pain. Yeah because taking someone out of pain wouldn't do that right. Sanctioned drug dealers and crooked doctors. So yeah cry me a river about the results from your own actions. What a joke, have fun explaining your actions to Christ.

Dear Jesus,

Someone wrote me the other day and wanted me to explain crackheads and how we deal with them to you. I'm not sure why. Maybe they figure that as the biggest single preventable source of war, strife, suffering and misery in our society you should be brought up to date with the latest challenges in pain management. Maybe they wish they could have brought you some OxyContin™ as you were flailing up on that cross, even though it only would have helped you "deal with the mental aspect of being in pain." like all those cancer people on their deathbed who get absolutely no pain relief from the morphine. Or post-op patients who've just had their chest ripped open. Who knew there actually wasn't any way to help them. Learn something every day I guess.

Anyway Jesus, a lot of drug seekers aren't very smart. Some of them just gobble down their Norco without a thought as to what they're gonna do when they run out way sooner than they're supposed to. When you tell them they can't have any more they whine and demand you call their doctor, who usually will say to give it to them anyway. Some of them do manage to figure out how to get multiple prescriptions from different doctors, but still bring them all to the same pharmacy, thinking we don't have the power to say no. Here's the thing though Jesus, increasingly the drug seekers are right. You take your 30 day supply of Vicodin into your local chain "pharmacy" on the 15th day, and when they don't want to fill it, you just call up the consumer complaint line and raise some holy hell. More than likely you will soon have your pills, a gift card, and an official apology. More and more crackheads are figuring this out, and staying away from stores like mine, where just the other day I turned away an OxyContin seeker with literally a fistfull of cash.

Wait. I think I get it now. That money in the Oxy seeker's hand was actually "Miracle Money" of they type espoused by the Reverend Peter Popoff and so many more of your followers, and that letter writer was telling me I was destined for hell for not taking it. Well shoot. I guess when I get there I'll just go hang out with all the Third World children who starved to death before they got a chance to have a little water sprinked over their head, which for some reason a few million of your peeps think is a necessary part of getting into get into heaven. Might be a good idea to keep those children away from the Catholic priests anyway if they make it up there. Maybe you really do have some sort of divine plan.

Back to the point though Jesus, I didn't take the crackhead's money because I didn't think he had a medical need for all that OxyContin, and I as a rule don't go around filling narcotics early, even though it does make for a few nasty confrontations. At least now I know where you stand on the issue  though. And that the folks plugging away for the big three chains are your chosen people.

I'm betting they don't feel like it though. Maybe next month you could give them all a Christmas dinner out of two fish or something to show how much you care.

Later,

Drugmonkey

Before We Start This Again Ms. Help Desk Lady, I Have One Question For You....

...do you know what happens to liars? Do you? Because I think you're about ready to find out.

You told me the problem with the claim was a bad NPI number. You sounded very certain, almost like you were swearing you spoke the truth.

I'm glad you didn't actually swear though, because bad things happen to people who break oaths, at least if you buy all the Jesus stuff that so freely floats around this country.

I believed you because you were in a position of trust. I hung up and went to the information superhighway to look up a new NPI number (by the way, for those of you who don't know, you can look up NPI numbers in seconds online, but it requires your employer to treat you like an adult and allow you internet access. Good luck with that. You can do a lot of stuff online to make your workday easier. You might want to think about taking a tablet to work)

I put in the new NPI and......got the exact same reject. How could I not feel betrayed? I came to you for guidance Ms. Help Desk Lady, and you threw my good intentions and trust down a rathole.

I only want to get this Celebrex paid for. I'm not greedy. A little over my acquisition cost will be fine.

What I got instead was another in a long line of emotional manipulations by the women in my life. I thought it would be different with you. I suspect the real problem is you need a prior auth and you knew that all along.

Why don't women ever tell you what they really need?

So when I call again Ms. Help Desk Lady, you can toy with me once more, use me as your plaything for your amusement. Or you can do the right thing. I'm not hopeful.

I'm even starting to suspect my call isn't very important to you at all. As I rot on hold.

With Apologies To Bill Maher, New Rule. You're Perfectly Free To Hate Obamacare, But....

....you have to pick a reason that's ACTUALLY TRUE. Because if you hate something for a reason that is false, you look really stupid.

Like when the people at your counter started complaining last year that they weren't getting the yellow Norco anymore and it must be because of Obamacare. Someone who would say something like that is a demonstrable idiot, and you know it wherever you fall on the political  spectrum. I'm trying here to keep you from looking like that guy. Doing you a favor really. You should thank me.

Thank me even though it may seem at first like I'm being a bit condescending. Stick with me though, because the journey to a reality-based reason to hate Obamacare  is fraught with peril. You may be making an effort to educate yourself about the issue by tuning into what passes for TV news in this country these days, and while that effort should be commended, sadly, it is not enough. Watching the shout shows is likely to leave you convinced that Obamacare is a threat to the sacred free enterprise system itself, as it becomes obvious that small business across the nation have been crippled under the weight of onerous regulation. Here's what an actual journalist wrote about the experience:

I happened to turn on the Hannity show on Fox News last Friday evening. “Average Americans are feeling the pain of Obamacare and the healthcare overhaul train wreck,” Hannity announced, “and six of them are here tonight to tell us their stories.” Three married couples were neatly arranged in his studio, the wives seated and the men standing behind them...

For those of you unaware, Hannity is one of the leading current affairs commentators on the television today. His ratings the envy of many an aspiring journalist.

As Hannity called on each of them, the guests recounted their “Obamacare” horror stories: canceled policies, premium hikes, restrictions on the freedom to see a doctor of their choice, financial burdens upon their small businesses and so on. 

“These are the stories that the media refuses to cover,” Hannity interjected.

Well they certainly are covering it now. Hannity is on the Fox News Network, on which millions of Americans depend for their information. He is the very essence of today's mainstream media. Back to the journalist:

I decided to hit the pavement. I tracked down Hannity’s guests, one by one, and did my own telephone interviews with them. 

First I spoke with Paul Cox of Leicester, N.C. He and his wife Michelle had lamented to Hannity that because of Obamacare, they can’t grow their construction business and they have kept their employees below a certain number of hours, so that they are part-timers. 

Obamacare has no effect on businesses with 49 employees or less. But in our brief conversation on the phone, Paul revealed that he has only four employees. Why the cutback on his workforce? “Well,” he said, “I haven’t been forced to do so, it’s just that I’ve chosen to do so. I have to deal with increased costs.” What costs? And how, I asked him, is any of it due to Obamacare? There was a long pause, after which he said he’d call me back. He never did.

Facts. Remember when news outlets valued them?

Next I called Allison Denijs. She’d told Hannity that she pays over $13,000 a year in premiums. Like the other guests, she said she had recently gotten a letter from Blue Cross saying that her policy was being terminated and a new, ACA-compliant policy would take its place. She says this shows that Obama lied when he promised Americans that we could keep our existing policies.

Allison’s husband left his job a few years ago, one with benefits at a big company, to start his own business. Since then they’ve been buying insurance on the open market, and are now paying around $1,100 a month for a policy with a $2,500 deductible per family member, with hefty annual premium hikes. One of their two children is not covered under the policy. She has a preexisting condition that would require purchasing additional coverage for $600 a month, which would bring the family’s grand total to around $20,000 a year.

I asked Allison if she’d shopped on the exchange, to see what a plan might cost under the new law. She said she hadn’t done so because she’d heard the website was not working. Would she try it out when it’s up and running? Perhaps, she said. She told me she has long opposed Obamacare, and that the president should have focused on tort reform as a solution to bringing down the price of healthcare.

I tried an experiment and shopped on the exchange for Allison and Kurt. Assuming they don’t smoke and have a household income too high to be eligible for subsidies, I found that they would be able to get a plan for around $7,600, which would include coverage for their uninsured daughter. This would be about a 60 percent reduction from what they would have to pay on the pre-Obamacare market.

This is what I'm trying to save you from my friends. This person was so convinced by the right wing echo chamber of the evils of Obamacare that she never even bothered to look before shooting off her mouth. She was more willing to go on national TV and spread the bullshit she'd been eating than to put any effort into finding out the truth and saving 60% on her health insurance costs in the process. I bet she wants the yellow Norco because it works better.

Don't be like this person.

But what's a loyal right-wing Obama hater to do when it comes to the challenge of opposing this law using the reality based world? To be honest, I'm not sure how much I'll be able to help you here, but for the sake of a civil debate that may serve the purpose of improving our public policy, let's do a little exploring and see what we can come up with.

I guess you could say the website sucks. That is an undisputed fact. But what you're really saying if you go down that route is that you want Obamacare to work better. So even though that seems to be the only thing Congressional Republicans have left in their arsenal after their delightfully suicidal shut down the government and piss everyone off maneuver, I'm not sure how far that'll get you, even though you will be miles ahead of that Hannity moron.

Here's an idea. You could say that Obamacare was an incredible wasted opportunity to implement the reforms our healthcare system really needed. That by leaving the insurance companies that have earned the hatred of their customers through so many types of abuse in charge of coordinating health care, it is the ultimate corporate welfare law. Forcing us to give our dollars to soulless, for profit entities with no care other than getting an extra nickel per share profit over last year, when we could have used far fewer dollars to create a public, single payer system which would be far more efficient and provide better outcomes than the numbnuts at Humana and the rest of their ilk could ever dream of.

Definitely fact based. Medicare has been shown time and time again to be more efficient with your tax dollars than Humana's ilk ever is with the ones they take from your payroll check. And I don't think even Hannity could come up with a panel willing to sing the praises of their current insurance plan.

So there's your talking point for those of you used to listening to Rush and having them given to you. You hate Obamacare because it is simply corporate welfare for the companies that have been abusing their policyholders for over a generation now. Say that and you'll never look like the yellow Norco guy. Your gratitude is appreciated but not necessary. A smarter public shall be reward enough for me.

Now, go forth and be less stupid.

I Was Fascinated By This Picture For A Long Time. Then I Figured It Out.

Look at it. Seriously, take a good hard look:

What is up with that face? I've...never seen an expression like this. Is it...

Fear? The eyes don't really give off a fearful vibe.

The mouth. It's perfectly straight. Not the slightest hint of smile or frown. I don't think I've ever seen anyone pull this off while showing teeth.

It is fear. Not in him, but in me. The longer I look at this humanesque...creature? The more frightened I become.

I just tried to mimic this expression in front of the mirror for five minutes and couldn't pull it off.

WHAT IS THIS MAN'S STORY?

For awhile I thought it would be the face one might make while undergoing a prostate exam. You don't want it to look like it's painful...but honestly, you really don't want to give the appearance of pleasure either. I've heard prostate massage can be pretty hot but you wouldn't tip the medical staff to that kind of thing I wouldn't think

And, why the suit? Wait. That's my clue. The suit. I was closer when I guessed "zombie" than I realized.

A little closer inspection told me I was looking at Jason Rubin, senior manager of immunization services for Walgreen's Corp. If you're plugging away at the corner of healthy and happy this is the man cracking the whip to make sure you hit that flu shot quota.

And this, I bet, is what he looks like when he is having his metrics read to him by his boss. Right after the soul leaves his body.

The numbed-out from the inside corporate drone. It's been so long I'd almost forgotten. This picture captures it perfectly.

Poor Jason. I fear him no longer.

Holy Crap I've Been So Busy I Forgot It's Been Over A Year Now Since The Fuckers At Rite Aid Have Had Any Power Over Me.

Since they forced me to make the best decision of my life. It's been a year and a couple months actually and what's embarrassing isn't how my time at the chain that keeps it personal ended. What's embarrassing is that I degraded myself by submitting to their power for so long.

Because this is the kind of thing they did with that power. Twisted the arm of educated professionals to fill prescriptions that everyone knew, or should have known, had no business being filled.

Not that Rite Aid had a monopoly on this. Both Walgreen's and CVS have run into far bigger problems for pushing obscene amounts of narcotics in the state of Florida. How embarrassing. For the people there deluding themselves by trying to maintain a veneer of professionalism in those sweatshops.

To those I left behind in the chains and to the person at corporate headquarters who's paid to do a Google search for "Rite Aid" every morning and will come across this post I say... it doesn't have to be like this. You do not have to sell your self respect for a fat paycheck that is destined to get smaller as the pharmacist surplus turns into a glut. You have no idea how good it feels to wake up in the morning and not be beholden to their bullshit. I work harder, and for far longer now than I ever did back then. But I have a bottle of scotch in the cupboard that I haven't felt the need to touch for months. And my self respect. And I haven't slept away a day for over a year now. Because now the days mean something to me.

It is deeply embarrassing it took me so long to stop being a coward.

To those of you left behind, it doesn't have to be like this.

__________________________________________________

Original Blogpost Air Date, January 25, 2009

Updated: I Am Fucking Tired, So The Quality Of This Post Will Suck. But I Feel Bad For Teasing You. My Personal Story Of Trying To Do The Rite Thing.

Because at work I like to keep things personal.

I think most of us in the profession can agree that making an effort to not have our customers become addicted to benzodiazapines would be the Rite thing to do. Our duty as health care professionals even. I think we can all agree on that.

At least I thought we could all agree on that. Evidently there is at least one exception. My Pharmacy District Manager, with whom I really don't have a personal relationship. I've never met him. He was of no Aid to me when I tried to do the Rite thing though. Benzodiazepines are high markup items, so maybe he's thinking the company needs the money. He could be right about that part.

Customer wanted a refill of temazepam that was filled 4 days ago for a 90 day's supply. While the other pharmacy was being contacted to confirm said 90 day supply was indeed picked up, the customer EXPLODES, and contacts the corporate office. She managed to find the Rite number to call without much Aid.

It's taking awhile to confirm the 90 day prescription. It was dispensed from a big mail-order outfit. I don't have to tell you what it's like to navigate through an organization like that to even find a person, much less one whose head is not up their ass.

I should say at this point I am asleep while all this is happening. I usually sleep until around 2 in the afternoon.

I should also say at this point the Pharmacy District Manager ORDERED THE OTHER PHARMACIST TO FILL THE PRESCRIPTION. Ordered the other pharmacist to dispense a 30 day supply of a controlled, habit forming medication when there was reason to believe a 90 day supply may have been dispensed 4 days before. A Pharmacy District Manager ordered this, which makes me think he may not be the Rite man for the job. Or perhaps he needs some Aid in his position.

The other pharmacist buckles. Don't blame her. She's here on an H-1 visa and if she's fired she's deported. She's also a good person and perhaps the best pharmacy manager I've ever worked for.

In stumbles the Drugmonkey in a caffeine-deprived haze. The other pharmacist is upset and doesn't want to talk about it, then leaves. At this point, the refill Rx has been filled, just as the District Manager ordered, and is ready to be picked up. The staff fills me in on the situation.

Step 1) Grab that refill off the shelf and make sure it ain't going nowhere.

Step 2) Sharpen the Drugmonkey claws.

I called the large mail-order operation and found someone with their head nowhere near their ass. There is a person working at a large mail-order operation whom if I ever meet in the real world, I will take out for dinner and as many drinks as they'd like. They were able to confirm delivery of the 90-day package and that it was signed for. As Kramer would say, Giddyup.

Oh, and the two prescriptions were from two different doctors.

I called the customer to tell her we would be unable to fill her 30 day refill request. You know what the customer said? The crazy customer who went ballistic only hours earlier?

"I understand. Thank you for calling."

Do you know what my District Manager said when I told him this? After putting me on hold for half an hour? That we still didn't have the power to deny the customer an early refill. My conversation with the customer was far more rational than the conversation I had with my District Manager. That's the saddest part of this whole episode.

The conversation with the District Manager quickly devolved into a semi-screaming match, at the end of which I reminded my District Manager there was a poster in every pharmacy in the state of California that spells out in clear terms the circumstances under which a pharmacist can refuse to fill a prescription. Preventing harm to the patient is one of them.

"Send me what this poster says in an e-mail" Said The District Manager who has sent out dozens of e-mails to every store he manages telling them the exact place to hang these posters. This was his way of blowing me off and ending the phone conversation.

My first thought was that my District Manager was a rookie under pressure from above to kiss customer ass who had a decision to make and blew it. After this phone conversation however, I realized I was wrong. He is a smug, arrogant, cocky power hungry bastard who has turned this into a pissing contest for no other reason than the need to feel his dick is bigger. He also is not an unintelligent man, which concerns me. I'm used to District Managers being kinda dumb and overwhelmed.

At any rate, I spent Friday in a nasty flame war with my District Manager. If I get fired, maybe I'll publish some of what I wrote here. There's some good stuff in there.

That's where it stands at the moment. A District Manager for a major pharmacy corporation maintains he has the power to order pharmacists to give out early refills of controlled medications.

Again I ask you Dear Readers, who the fuck needs cable? There is drama all around. I'll keep you posted.

Update 1/30- After almost a week, the District Manager decided to say he did not, in fact, order the other pharmacist to fill anything. The other pharmacist had documented in the patent's profile notes, however, that the DM did indeed order her to fill the early 30 day refill. Determined not to let him slip out of this, I sent an e-mail to the DM pointing this out, and thanking him for teaching us the importance of documentation. A meeting was held between myself, the other pharmacist, and the DM. The District Manager claims it was a case of miscommunication. The other pharmacist maintained she most certainly felt as if she was being ordered to fill this prescription. I made the District Manager look me in the eye and say he did not have to power to force a pharmacist to fill a prescription against his or her professional judgement. Outcome acceptable. Situation stable. For now.

The Tyranny Of Obamacare Explained Through My Own Eyes

Today was the day every freedom loving, right thinking, mostly middle age and most likely very white and healthy American has dreaded. I had waited for this moment for nearly two years. Ever since the man who has won two nationwide elections by a combined 14,400,000 votes signed into law The Affordable Care Act.

Obamacare. It was here. Tyranny had come to my own drugstore as my technician approached me with the news that she had just been to Covered California. The tyrannical website set up to trick poor unsuspecting souls who wish to see a doctor into committing treason.

It was worse than I expected. She reported that next year she would be saving over $5,000 in health insurance costs. $5,000 that could have gone to good, honest corporations such as Aetna, United Health Care, or Anthem Blue Cross. Companies that have been such good friends to the pharmacy profession.

I shudder to think what sort of hit Humana might be taking in all this.

Back to my own store though. I immediately ran through the impact of the bombshell my technician had just exploded in my face. With $5,000 extra in her pocket the pressure would be off me to give her a raise anytime soon. I looked down at the pharmacy's carpet as I gathered my thoughts. The money that I otherwise might have spent on a technician raise could now be used to replace the tissue paper thin fiber remnants that continue to cling to the floor. A faint echo of the glory my floor covering knew in the age of Don Draper.

So now my technician will have more money in her pocket and I will hire a local contractor to do something about my disgusting floor. If that isn't tyranny than I, and most tea party members, have no idea what is.

I've saved the worst revelation for last however. My friends I have a confession. I myself have been to Covered California. I could not resist the siren call of socialism and as a result I found out I will be paying 1/3 the price of what I was privileged to hand over for COBRA coverage. It wasn't enough that I was already taking advantage of one federal law that interferes with  free market health insurance companies who only want to do what is best for you. I would soon be paying far less to the corporations who never in their wildest dreams would ever do anything unjust to their customers.

My other technician, firmly in the grip of Medicare, is long lost to the cause of freedom. She is very healthy however, which I'm sure is a small consolation.

So this is the face of tyranny. A pharmacist taking advantage of no longer having a history of hypertension held against him, able to buy health insurance so he can go into business for himself. His employees happy, healthy, and with a significant amount of extra bank in their purse. A carpet layer hired and paid to perform work.

In short, a socialist hell.

And as soon as the parks open back up and the tourists come back....a more profitable one for me as well. I haven't looked up the meaning of the word "tyranny" in awhile, so I'm not quite sure when it started to mean "extra money and profits." One of you teabaggers will have to clue me in on that one.

   

An Ode To Minastrin.....Chew Chew Chew Chew!!!!!!

Minastrin sounds like a soup, or other fine dish,
but if you're looking to eat, you won't get your wish,
stopping your babies is the name of the game,
and new Minastrin!! just isn't the same.

The ingredients are identical, that much is true,
and just as effective at stopping little yous
but if you want some Loestrin, that you won't find,
because you, my good friend, are now behind the times.
The difference, you see, between me and you,
is the miracle of jaw work....chew chew chew chew!!!!!

With everything else the same you might say,
why would we start this new birth control day?
The answer is as simple as the sky is blue.....
We love to watch women, go chew chew chew chew!!!!!

That, and the money. We get a new patent on this chewable bullshit you see, which means you bitches are gonna chew us all the way to the bank.

Now get chompin'

Sincerely,

Warner Chilcott

The Forces Of Political Correctness Know Exactly How To Bend Me To Their Will

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I Love This Guy. Not The Commentator, But The Candidate Of Which He Speaks.

Because every time the GOP nominates a retard numbnut like this, it makes our job a little easier.

And by a little I mean a lot.

I can see the strategy meeting now:

"Ken...whatever you do just keep your mouth shut about rape and especially rape babies...OK? I know it's a sincere belief close to your heart, but those kinds of comments are a guaranteed loser with women. They easily cost us 2 Senate seats last time around."

"Yeah, that's pretty easy to understand actually. I was thinking of going on the record in favor of outlawing cunnilingus as a way to appeal to the woman vote."

"Brilliant!! A sex strategy that in no way mentions rape babies. I think we've found a winner!!!!"

BBBBBBWWWWWAAAAAHHHHHAAAAHHHAAAHHAAAAA!!!!!!! Someone, please....give Ken Cuccinelli as big a megaphone, as large a platform, and as much media exposure as he would like......

I'll do my bit right now.

Visit NBCNews.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

I Publish A Spoiler From My Awesome First Book As A Rear Guard, Guerrilla Action In The War On Women

I knew this day would come.

I've watched for years as the forces waging war on a woman and her uterus have gathered and run rampant over the countryside. As they evolved from small cells born in the ashes of defeat after Roe v. Wade to the forces of reactionary Puritanism that have become marauding bands of sexual police barbarians. Sometimes highly educated barbarians, as in the case of Lloyd Duplantis of Gray, Louisiana, a pharmacist who won a few minutes of national notoriety  for, among other things, declaring that birth control pills are "the most dangerous chemicals on the market" and becoming the lab coat wearing face of the war on Plan B, the morning after pill. I wrote my first book primarily as a bitchslap against Lloyd and his ilk, and by any measure I was wildly successful, as that chemical that he thought so dangerous is now available for the asking for anyone 17 and up, and will soon be easier to get than Sudafed. Lloyd is no longer a figurative loser, but a literal one as well.

In my book I took Lloyd one further though. Rant and rave as he and his kind do that Plan B and other morning after pills cause an abortion, they do not. I won't go so far as to say Lloyd is lying, but anyone with a pharmacist's background should know that what he says about Plan B isn't true. Maybe Lloyd just isn't very smart. So I decided to educate him a bit by publishing another bit of information any pharmacist should know. How to induce an actual, real, abortion using the old time ulcer medicine misprostol  (Cytotec)

Isn't that ironically funny? Lloyd rants about a pill that doesn't cause an abortion so I tell the world about a pill that does. Ha ha ha ha......I should get some sort of an award.

The closest I've come to that so far though is leading the way for The New York Times, which told the world today that after the new....cough cough......"safety" regulations soon to be passed in Texas that will have the toooooooootallly unintended consequence of forcing most abortion clinics there to shut their doors, there will most likely be a run across the border, where Mexican pharmacies will sell you a pack of misoprostol with few or no questions asked. Here's a quote from that article:

"When asked how women should use the pills, some of the pharmacists said they did not know and others recommended wildly different regimes that doctors say could be unsafe,"

 Which means that State Senator Glen Hegar, chief sponsor of the Texas bill who says he wants not to limit abortion access “but to increase the quality of care.” Will be driving women in his state into the hands of Mexican pharmacists with their head squarely up their ass. Pharmacists stupider than Lloyd Duplantis even.

Yeah, I knew this day would come. It's nice to sell books and all, and even after two years that little book of mine still sells pretty well, but I always had a feeling that at some point making the information about how to use misoprostol as safely as possible would be more important than any book royalties earned. Here's another quote from the Times:

When used properly in the early weeks of pregnancy, misoprostol, which causes uterine contractions and cervical dilation, induces a miscarriage about 85 percent of the time, according to Dr. Grossman. But many women receive incorrect advice on dosage and, especially later in pregnancy, the drug can cause serious bleeding or a partial abortion, he said.

Yup. That day is here. This is a word per word copy of a chapter lifted right out of my book. It's copyrighted, but feel free to save it, send it, post it, or spread the information around as much as you'd like. Just don't sell it. And also know that I DON'T recommend this. I would much rather you see and be under the care of a real doctor with real experience in ending a pregnancy, but the authorities in Texas, and Ohio, Wisconsin, Arkansas, Arizona, North Dakota, and too many other states have seen fit to make that less likely to happen. When you have limited options, you make the best of what's left to you.

Here you go:

Chapter Title, "This One's For You Lloyd Duplantis"

Cytotec. That's the brand name of the anti-ulcer medicine misoprostol that has been around since 1988. Any doctor anywhere in the country can write a prescription for misoprostol, and while it's not as big a seller as it used to be, the chances are pretty good a pharmacy in your town has it on the shelf,  just like any prescription, and if you don't have any insurance, it should easily cost you less than $30.

It can also be used to induce an abortion. If that's what you want to do, have your doctor write a prescription as follows:

Cytotec 200mcg
#12 tablets
Take as directed

Then take four of the tablets and dissolve them under your tongue. Three hours later dissolve four more, then wait three hours and do it a third time. Another option is to insert four tablets vaginally and repeat with four more in 24 hours. Talk it over with your doctor and decide which way is best for you.

Also, please read the rest of this before you do anything.

First off, let's be clear. Unlike when you take Plan B, you will be ending a viable pregnancy when you take misoprostol. This is an abortion, and if an abortion is not what you want, than you should not take misoprostol. 

Misoprostol is not without side effects or risks. The drug works by expelling the fetus, which means you will experience cramps, possibly stronger than anything you've gone through with your period. You can take some over the counter Aleve (naproxen sodium) to help with these cramps if they are troublesome.

You may also experience chills, fever, nausea, vomiting or diarrhea after taking misoprostol. Fever can be treated with naproxen or Tylenol, but if it lasts more than 24 hours you should check with your doctor. Nausea can be treated with over the counter Dramamine. 

Misoprostol doesn't always work. It has a success rate of anywhere from 80 to 90%, and there is a chance if it fails it can cause birth defects. You should start to experience bleeding within the first day after taking misoprostol, if no bleeding occurs, than the abortion has failed. Misoprostol should not be used at all after the 9th week of pregnancy due to the risk of excessive bleeding, and should not be used if you have an IUD. 

Seek immediate medical attention if,  after using misoprostol, you experience heavy bleeding (soaking more than two maxi pads per hour for more than two hours), feel dizzy or lightheaded, or have a fever for more than 24 hours. 

If you end up in the hospital, the symptoms will be identical to a spontaneous miscarriage. The medical staff will not know you tried to induce an abortion. 

Now you know how you can get an abortion for the cost of a doctor's visit and your prescription copay. Do I think it's the best method? No, I don't. Misoprostol combined with Mifeprex is more effective, but I'm aware it won't always be an option, and unlike too many in the medical professions, I think you should be aware of all the options available to you. 

And now you are. 

__________________________________________

In your face Lloyd Duplantis, and now, in your face, assholes of the Texas legislature.  

I Offer You A Chance To Put Up Or Shut Up. Or, Pharmacy Jesus Starts To Lead His Flock Away From Chain Tyranny

The retail pharmacist experience has never been good and it's not getting any better. You need someone to tell you that as much as you need someone to tell you the sun rises in the east or bears shit in the woods. The staffing is getting shorter, the corporate mandates dumber, the bounty on your head if you're over 40 higher, and the professional standards you pretend to uphold lower. Despite all the visionary feel good talk of pharmacy "leaders" over the last 20 years, all they have managed to accomplish is replacing "count, pour, lick and stick" with "count, pour, lick, stick, and stick," that second stick being as many arms as possible. Flu season is fast approaching my friends, and woe to the pharmacist who does not meet his immunization quota. We all seem to agree it's hopeless.

Except it's not. I am going to shortly offer you, right here, right now, a way out of your sorry-ass situation. I am not kidding you. Read on.

I wrote back in April about the Clinic Pharmacy in Happy Camp, California. How it's owner has built an honest to God clinical retail practice and makes money doing it. I am not kidding you. All the count, pour, lick and stick stuff is done by a technician. All of it. The pharmacist spends his time talking to patients, researching questions, charting outcomes and whatever else he wants. The closest he gets to your type of drudgery is when he compiles a CII order. He has pulled off what has previously been solely the fantasy of the APhA world. And he has done it while the APhA decides to give an award for professionalism to Walgreens for whatever reason.

"Great for him" you're thinking if you even believe me. "But what's that got to do with me?......woe is me.......woe woe woe......."

Because you have a chance to end your friggin woe right now buddy. Clinic Pharmacy is for sale. That means you can buy it and tell your DM to take his shortstaffing and quota enforcing and shove it up his ass. You have a chance to actually be a professional. To interact with patients and actually make decisions and influence outcomes.  

And if I know most of you, you're busy right now thinking of a million reasons why you can't.

"It'll cost too much" you'll whine. Nope. Its asking price is $230,000 If you bought a house you can buy this place. Form an S-corp with your partner you're looking at 115,000 each. Eligible to be financed through the Small Business Administration.

"But I won't make as much." Others of you will cry. Well with that attitude you won't. Remember as a business OWNER you are free to do whatever you'd like to drive sales and revenues. Not to mention that if you are willing to sell your soul for what the chains are paying, you absolutely deserve what you're getting. I don't want to hear another peep out of you, ever, no matter how bad it gets.

"But I don't want to live out in the middle of nowhere" OK, that one I'll cut you some slack on, as that's what ultimately drove my decision not to buy this place. But there's no reason not to at least go look and see what ideas you can take for your own, independent practice, like Pharmacy Jesus did. I'm sure the owner wouldn't mind talking to you at all. He's seriously a nice guy.

So there you are whiners. You now have a concrete plan of action out of the bullshit you are drowning in. Take it, or at least investigate it, or forever lose your right to bitch about the profession ever again.

Drop me a line, right now, and I'll give you all the contact info you need to get started.

Non-CVS Pharmacy Company Fined For Wrongdoing.

In a shocking press release made public this month, the Drug Enforcement Administration confirmed that the latest target of a pharmacy related investigation was not leading drugstore operator CVS.

"We have concluded an investigation into the diversion of oxycodone through legitimate pharmacies in the state of Florida and onto the streets of cities throughout the country, and have concluded that it in no way involves CVS." said lead field agent Dirk Bradford at a press conference at DEA headquarters this afternoon. "As unbelievable as it may sound, CVS is in no way accused of doing anything wrong at this time."

The investigation uncovered stores that had sold as many as 2,200,000 pills of oxycodone over the course of a year and not a one of them was a CVS. Seriously. The company that has over the years been accused of among other things, bribing state senators, employing fake pharmacists, overcharging both the Medicare system and individual Medicare recipients, as well as letting a customer have an asthma attack in one of their stores because they were a couple dollars short had nothing to do with this scandal.

I'm not kidding you. Six stores lost their DEA license in Florida over this. And a company that is not CVS will pay an 80 million dollar fine.

Walter Brombach, a retail analyst at Goldman Sachs expressed concern the company was losing its competitive edge.

"After being a trailblazer in showing just how far a corporation can go in skirting the law to profitability, these latest developments raise the specter that CVS' competitors may be catching up and developing their own ways of calculating the reward/risk ratio of defying accepted laws and social norms. That being the case I am immediately downgrading my rating on the stock from 'strong buy' to 'hold"

Other analysts were more optimistic, noting that CVS had its own oxycodone scandal in 2012 and this was simply a case of others mimicking the industry leader.

Reached at the company's headquarters in Rhode Island, CVS spokesman Mike DeAngelis said "We remain committed to serving our customers and will work with the proper authorities.....wait....no....this isn't us.....no comment."

This Week's News Headlines. As Fresh As One Of My Five Year Old Blog Posts. Or, I May Be On The World's Longest Acid Trip.

Fans of The Supreme Court and my little blog garden got a taste of my eternal wisdom and foresight this week when they anxiously logged on to their favorite news source and saw this story about the doings of the highest court in the land:

The Supreme Court ruled Monday that brand-name drug makers can be sued for violating the antitrust laws if they make a deal that pays a potential competitor to put off selling a generic version. 

The 5-3 decision is likely to benefit consumers with lower prices. The Federal Trade Commission, which has pursued suits against the drug makers, estimated these so-called “pay for delay” deals cost consumers and health plans $3.5 billion a year.

This is the kind of story that separates my true fans from the pretenders my friends, as those who worship my words knew all about this scam long ago. For the rest of you, I'll bring back The Bullshit Exposure Through Dramatization Players to explain the issue with a repeat performance of their 2007 hit "Can't We All Just Get Along?"

Generic Drugmakers: Oh Big Pharma, can't we just get along? Why, when your patent runs out for a medicine, must we sue each other for years instead of competing in the marketplace? Can't we just play by the rules and both earn a legitimate profit? 

Big Pharma: There, there little guy. You think our lawyers are mean when they sue each other, but really they are doing us both a favor. Yes, you could make a billion dollars selling a generic version of our drug for 70% less than what we charge, but that would involve you actually doing work. When we sue each other, we can settle, and I can pay you three quarters of a billion dollars to do nothing. We both win. 

Generic Drugmakers: But what about the American people, who will continue to have to pay whatever you want to charge for access to this medicine? 

(30 seconds of silence) 

Big Pharma: Here's a big check. 

Generic Drugmakers: You are wise and just Big Pharma.

You read that right (over 5 years ago) Big Pharma has a habit of paying generic drugmakers not to make a product so they can continue to charge the monopolistic prices we all know and loathe. And this week the Supreme Court said they continue to do so at their own peril.

So George Bush's fight against Big Pharma has been won.

You read that right, and I remain as baffled by this as I was the day I first visited the subject. The man who brought us The Iraq war, the one who so skillfully managed the other conflict he started in Afghanistan, the person who gave us Guantanamo and laid the groundwork for the spy state we now live in....took Big pharma to task for overcharging the American people.

Do you think he even knows? Maybe he has no idea and he's gonna be really mad when he finds out.

Or maybe John Roberts has a prescription for Crestor. That's the only other idea I've got. Even my great wisdom has limits it would seem.

Of course I theorized at the time I was on acid, which still might explain a lot actually.

Anyway, I am wise and insightful. Mostly.

Rite Aid, Battered Like A Wife Of OJ Simpson, Somehow Manages To Rise From The Dead And Limp Around Like A Mutant Zombie.

CAMP HILL, PA- In a surprise news conference today that turned out mostly to be a one man monologue, Rite Aid CEO John Standley announced what he called "a bold new era of service to our customers, our patients, and our employees."

"Let's be honest, this company's been in trouble for a long time now, and our recent announcement of a return to profitability after six years surprised me as much as anyone. Naturally the first thing I thought of was that the boys in accounting screwed up again, they're not exactly the sharpest pencil in the drawer you know."

"Then I thought maybe it was a practical joke, and I got scared. Lying on official SEC filings, no matter how funny, is something that could put me in jail. And the stories Marty (former Rite Aid CEO Martin Grass) has to tell can make the hair on your back curl."

"But then it began to sink in. We just might make it. All our hard work, well, mostly my hard work, is finally starting to pay off. Our vision, our determination, and our drive, has finally put us in a place where after a three month period we have more money left than we spent. After I let that sink in, I asked myself 'now what are we going to do with it?'

"Why not use it to build something different, I asked myself. Why not use our near death experience as a teachable moment, an opportunity to show the world that when an organization buckles down, looks deep inside itself, and demands incredible sacrifices from its members in order to survive, that it should use that survival to show the world that those sacrifices were worthwhile. That's why I'm pleased to announce the new Rite Aid, committed to being the most dynamic and rewarding place to work in the whole drugstore industry. From now on, our business leading program, "RiteLife" will strive to find ways to let our employees know we value and care for them as people."

"For example, obese people have by and large a lower quality and shorter life than those of us of normal weight. So our new program of mandatory weigh ins is just a way of showing how we care for you. And the savings generated by not having as many fat asses on our payroll will go a long way towards generating many more profitable quarters to come."

"Profitable...and rewardable...for you!!! Just think of every time you step on the scale soon to be installed in every breakroom as like a treat from Grandma. Without the calories!!"

"And if you think that's exciting, just wait until you see what else RiteLife has in store. I don't want to give away too much, but let me just whet your appetite with 5 words, keystroke loggers and phone taps! All perfectly legal, after you sign the RiteLife Rewards Release form."

"One thing's for sure. Now that we have some monetary resources coming in, every employee will soon know just how much we care. About everything they do."

"Everything."

Reached for comment, CEO of leading drugstore chain CVS Larry Merlo said "Groundbreaking my ass, we've been weighing the fatties for months now. And just because he got away with firing some jackass who shot off his mouth in front of the whole goddamn internet he thinks he's head of the CIA or something. That punk doesn't have the slightest idea what controlling someone's life is about."

"Trust me" Merlo concluded, "No one cares for their employees more than CVS."

"No one."

Crucified And Reborn. You May Now Refer To Me As Pharmacy Jesus.

It's been the worst kept secret in the world here in my little corner of the pharmacy world, and those of you who haven't caught on by now deserve to know.

I bought my own drugstore.

I'm not kidding you. I could drive to the nearest pharmacy right now, unlock it, and fill you a prescription if you had one. Because that nearest pharmacy would be mine. I can do whatever I want, including telling you to get the fuck out.

Here's the thing though, now that I *can* tell people to get the fuck out....I have yet to meet anyone I would want to say that to. I said during my entire sentence toiling away for the chains that I would act like a professional as soon as I was treated like one, and the people of this community have called me on that. They're glad I'm here. Person after person has shaken my hand and welcomed me to town. I go about my day to day routine and people want to stop and make friendly smalltalk. I had almost forgotten what friendly was like. One man routinely brings eggs from his farm and I had no idea how yellow egg yolks could be. Not one person has asked me why their prescription is taking so long.

Probably because it never takes that long to fill one. It's amazing how much quicker things can move when there is no corporate bullshit and there is the freedom to staff a workplace adequately.

This may be bad news for you though, if you are a fan of my little blog garden, as I fear I may have turned into the pharmacy blogger version of Aerosmith. The creative process when done well almost always feeds off misery, and I gotta be honest, I haven't been miserable in a good while now. Haven't had so much as a sip of scotch in at least two months, and that is the God's honest truth. So if you start reading my posts and begin secretly begging me to get back on the sauce the way I so desperately want Steven Tyler to get back on the smack, I understand.

But it's not gonna happen. I haven't been this unmiserable since college.

So, I'll try to come here and check in and entertain from time to time, but if I have learned nothing else, it is that running a business...and I mean running a business and not just "managing" a pharmacy by paying attention to the metric of the month, is an incredible time suck. There aren't many free minutes in my life right now my friends, but there is so much less stress.  I wish Rite Aid would have fired me years ago, but I understand now why it couldn't happen.

You see, my time in your pharmacy world was necessary. These last 20 years in retail have only been preparation to show you the way out. Crucified and now reborn, I await for you to follow the path to redemption I have blazed. I realize now, I am pharmacy's chosen one.

I am... Pharmacy Jesus.

Today's Cruel Little Legal Joke

An actual line from the actual California Pharmacy Permit application:

"any non-pharmacist owner who commits any act which would subvert or tends to subvert the efforts of the pharmacist-in-charge to comply with the laws governing the operation of the pharmacy is guilty of a misdemeanor"

To which CVS says......BBBBWWWWWWAAAAAAHHHHAAAHHHAAAHAAAAAA!!!!!!! What a quaint little law from a different time. Kinda like the one still on the books in the nearest town from here that says a driver has to honk his horn at the city limits in order to warn any horses on the street.

"But.....why were you looking at a pharmacy permit application Drugmonkey?" some of you may be asking.

More will be revealed my friends. Stay tuned.

Insist On Brand Name Poly-Vi-Flor Or Your Baby Will Be Crazy, Mentally Challenged, Eaten By Their Own White Blood Cells, Then Finished Off By Cancer.

I just saved you the effort of reading the latest fax from Zytera Pharmaceuticals with that headline. Those of you wise enough to already have a copy of my latest book know that Zytera is the company that bought the rights to the Poly-Vi-Flor and Tri-Vi-Flor brand names, and that both products were boring old baby vitamins on the market as long as anyone can remember, only requiring a prescription to make sure your kid wasn't getting too much fluoride, the tooth hardener that turns your teeth to mush when taken in excess.

Anyway, boring old product most doctors still prescribe by name, even though 99.9% of those prescriptions have been filled with a generic for decades, then a new company buys the name. Most of you know where this is going. The old "minor change" trick. The company buys the name, makes a minor change in the formula, and now, all the sudden all those Poly-Vi-Flor prescriptions can no longer be filled with the cheap generic. I'm looking at you Auralgan.

In the case of Poly and Tri-Vi-Flor......Zytera uses a slightly different form of folic acid, one of the B vitamins. The folic acid we eat or take in vitamin supplements, like a gazillion other drugs and food parts, is metabolized into the form your body eventually uses. That is the full time job of your liver. Changing the stuff you eat into the stuff you use. Zytera uses the form of folate that comes out of your liver for the new Poly and Tri-Vi-Flor.

Ho hum.

Not to hear the folks at Zylera tell it though, after the usual blah blah blah about how the new formulations are NOT pharmaceutically equivalent to previous (inexpensive) formulations, this is what today's fax said, word for word:

Recent studies have indicated that 40-75% of the population has a genetic variant called methylenetetrahydrofolate reductase also known as MTHFR that impairs the ability to process folate. This defective gene leads to elevated levels of homocysteine and defective methylation. Defective methylation is associated with psychiatric illnesses, such as schizophrenia, depression and bipolar, as well as autoimmunity disorders, ADD, autism, spina bifida, Down's syndrome, miscarriages, and cancer.

I'm not making this up. Basically a pharmaceutical manufacturer this day sent out a fax to pharmacies around the country that essentially said... HOLY MOTHER OF GOD IF YOU DON'T USE BRAND NAME POLY-VI-FLOR THE BABIES WILL BE CRAZY AND RETARDED AND DEAD!!! THEIR OWN WHITE BLOOD CELLS WILL JOIN UP WITH RAMPAGING CANCER TO EAT THE CHILDREN FROM THE INSIDE!!!!! BE AFRAID BE AFRAID BE AFRAID!!!!!!

I will step back here and remind you we are talking about baby vitamins. Hopefully you won't need me to tell you that 40 to 75% of babies born in the last 40 years have not turned out to be spina bifida wrecked schizophrenics, despite how badly the people at Zylera would like you to believe that. My guess is there's a reason these incredibly irresponsible bullshit claims were made in a fax, and not in the more permanent and traceable form of a postal letter or advertisement.

So thank you Zylera. Before I got this fax the temptation was very strong not to use my limited amount of time behind the counter calling doctors to explain why Poly-Vi-Flor is now bullshit. You can bet your left testicle that whenever I see a prescription for your crap in a bottle from now on though, time will be made.

Fuckers.

My New Book Is Now Here In All Its Glory And In All Forms Paper And Electronic. Get Your Copy Or Be Forever Doomed To Pay Too Much For Your Vicodin.

Because those of us in the know all know that the new Vicodin is a rip off. Nothing but a cynical ploy to take advantage of the brand name of the most prescribed drug in America in order to score some unearned dollars.

If you don't know that, then you seriously need to get on Amazon right now. Click on this link as fast as you can. 

Or click here if you get your words from a Nook. 

If you do know that, and wanna know more about this kind of crap in a bottle, than you really should click on that link too. 'Cause you'll find a new book chock full of examples of the bullshit that sometimes passes for innovation in the world of Big Pharma.

Doryx anyone? Treximet? Makena? And more zit creams than you can shake a stick at.

Actually now that I think about it, I'm realizing this may just be the most important book ever written. Seriously. Everyone from kids with zits to seniors with Alzheimer's will benefit from the words I have written. I never realized until now just what a humanitarian I am.

I should get an award. Anyway, here's another excerpt so you can see what I'm talking about.

 Aricept 23

The Med

Aricept, the brand name of donepezil, is a member of a class of meds known as cholinesterase inhibitors. It works by increasing the amount of acetylcholine in the brain, and has become a cornerstone of Alzheimer's therapy. While not a cure, it can delay the progression of symptoms and is one of the limited options available to sufferers of the disease. As such it became a blockbuster seller for its makers, the Japanese company Eisai and their American partners Pfizer, generating over $2 billion in annual revenue. It was set to lose its patent protection in November of 2010 however, which would lead the way for generic competition.

The Scam

I almost didn’t list the meds in this book alphabetically, because I wanted to save this one for last, as it crosses a line I thought would never be crossed. Aricept was available for years in 5 and 10 milligram strengths. Shortly before its patent protection was set to expire however, Eisai and Pfizer applied for approval of a 23 milligram version.

“What an odd number” you may be saying to yourself. Notice how that odd number cannot be reached by using the soon to be cheap 5 and 10 mg strengths.

Still, it is intuitive that a higher dose of medication would improve clinical outcomes. Science doesn’t run on intuition though, in science things have to be proven, so a study was started. The FDA set a benchmark that said the new strength had to improve both cognitive (mental) and global (overall) function in Alzheimer's patients in order to be approved.  

Aricept 23 flunked. The study showed only slight improvement in cognitive function and no improvement at all in global function. The FDA however, against the advice of both a clinical and statistical reviewer, approved Aricept 23 anyway. The New York Times reported that Dr. Russell Katz, director of the F.D.A.’s neurology products division, “acknowledged side effects from the higher dose ‘could lead to significant morbidities and even increased mortality,’ but concluded that the drug most likely improved overall functioning even though the study did not show that.”

Two points about what just happened here:

1) “but concluded that the drug most likely improved overall functioning even though the study did not show that.” So much for science not running on intuition, as the intuition of the right person was what got this drug approved. The medical professions have become used to numbers being massaged, facts being twisted, and any and everything possible being done to put a med in the best light possible in the scientific literature, but this is the first time I’m aware of when they’ve given up on even pretending like the scientific facts matter. “The study did not show that,” and it still didn’t matter.

2) Which might be forgivable if it were done in the name of trying anything possible to help the victims of a terrible disease. But Katz also “acknowledged side effects could lead to significant morbidities and even increased mortality.” Just to be clear, morbidity is a fancy word for sickness. Mortality is one for death.

So the FDA approved a drug that did not meet its criteria for effectiveness, and that its head of neurology products said may leave more people dead. That’s the story of Aricept 23 in one sentence.

Oh, and Aricept 23 costs about 90 dollars a month more than the safer and effective 10mg generic version.

What To Do

Let me be clear: Aricept 5 and 10mg are perfectly appropriate choices for Alzheimer's patients. It’s only when the dose went up to 23mg that it crossed the line into bullshit. There may be isolated cases where a dose that high is beneficial, but they tried to prove its effectiveness at that dose and got marginal results. What Aricept 23 does do is more than triple the incidence of nausea and vomiting, increase by 60 percent the chance of diarrhea, and depletes your loved one’s assets by over a thousand dollars a year. Unless there is a good reason not to, stick with the lower doses.

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Wow. That was awesome. And there's plenty more where that came from my friends.

You are just a click away.