Side-Effects

Television commercials are getting to be wildly offensive, no?

The toilet paper commercials are absolutely wild.

“Everyone poops,” is the main theme behind one of them, and then a couple of red bears wipe their behinds, and dance.

Toilet paper has never made me dance unless there isn’t any left on the roll and the basket that holds the extra rolls is also empty.

Worst feeling in the world:

Making someone bring you a roll. My brother used to leave it 3’ outside the door and make me hop to it.

Then, last night we watched a 90 second commercial about a man’s bent manhood.

They demonstrated by showing crooked carrots.

The downside of all of it were Penile fractures or non-functioning sperm.

“Why am I watching this?” I asked halfway through. “If you were having such a problem wouldn’t you see a doctor anyway? Why would you have to be persuaded by a commercial?”

“No clue,” Kathy said.

And of course there are the commercials that show a guy or gal on a bike, or climbing a mountain, all smiles, forever thankful that they got their meds.

The last 30 seconds of the commercial is a guy speaking as fast as an auctioneer.

“Side-effects include sleeplessness, massive weight gain, possible heart attacks, likely stroke, projectile vomiting, mental confusion, respiratory distress, sudden, explosive bowel movements and possibly death.”

“Sounds good,” I mention.

“After taking this medication, if you’re having suicidal thoughts, you should immediately contact your physician.”

It always makes me think about the guy who took the ‘stop-smoking’ med.

I hadn’t seen him for months.

When we ran into one another again he looked like death warmed over.

“Where you been?” I asked.

“I took that stop-smoking pill and was one of the lucky ones who had the major nightmares. I wound up sleep-walking and fell down the basement stairs. Fractured skull! Almost died!!”

My next question was the natural one.

“Did you quit smoking?”

“Actually, yes! I was in an induced coma for 3 weeks. Didn’t feel like smoking after that.”

“Well,” I said. “Congratulations!”

Imagine if he had a bent penis.