Tag Archives: Chloroform

Ridiculous Drugs That Were Once Medicine: Part One

“Ah, I see you have a nail in your foot.  Some heroin will cure that right up.”

~Like, just the best doctor ever, you guys, circa 1898

As a rule, the non-crazy members of American society don’t really question what doctors tell us to put in our body, unless the words “Hamster” and “Suppository” are involved.  Got a rusty ticker?  Swallow this white chalky square.  Sinus infection?  Rub some of this nasty smelling ointment on your chest.  You just can’t make the jump from “Utility role player” and “Star slugger” on your professional baseball team?  Just let this guy inject some “Vitamin B12” into your ass cheeks.  It’s called plausible deniability, in case Congress ever asks.

But despite all the weird things we’ll just cram into our bodies without a second of hesitation (“Lupidemitrexeral?  Why, I almost named my daughter that!”) the American pharmaceutical industry spends billions of dollars on development and research to make sure that their medicine won’t turn you into some sort of pig lizard.  And once they hit that perfect, non-mutation-forming treatment of medical ailments, they’ll do us the favor of charging us out the ass for it.  But we can’t fault them for that, hell we’ll applaud them for finding a way to make big bucks even when times are bad by feeding off our addiction to “living.”  Prescription drugs can cost the arm and leg they were meant to treat because they work, and they work better than anything else at our disposal.  Otherwise, those thousands of rabbits and rats died in those laboratories for nothing.

However, in America, things used to be a bit less “controlled” with “procedures in place to make sure you don’t take mercury for medicinal purposes.”  Which was bad for sick people, but absolutely amazing for people who like to laugh at the mistakes of past generations.  Because, come on, are you serious late 19th Century/early 20th Century!?

Damn, 15 cents?  Who’s THEIR dealer?

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The Cure For a Night at a Vegan Restaurant

“…is…is this a trick?”

~REDACTED

Last week, we sent an Undercover Investigative journalist into the most evil place we could imagine- a Vegan restaurant.  We redacted the staff member’s name, because we knew that consuming Vegan food would leave an irreparable mark on his permanent record.  But what we saw…it, well it haunted us.  We saw a man reduced to rubble, not even afforded the decency of being allowed to chug a glass of bacon grease after his tofu crab cakes.  He was given bowls full of warmed, liquid vegetables, normally only reserved for prisoners at Guantanamo Bay.

Our senior staff members watched the hidden camera footage of poor REDACTED as he suffered through a five course meal of nothing but vegetables, tofu, and succubi.  It was painful to watch.  “Oh God, he’s losing his mind out there,” Harrison Ford, our aviation editor, sighed.

“He’s eating it!  Oh God, HE’S EATING IT!” Bruce Willis, our Barefoot Security Chief, began screaming.

“He’s going down in flames!” JFK III, the unknown-to-the-public grandson of JFK, exclaimed (it might sound like he was being insensitive, but man, you should hear how many airplane jokes the kid makes, it’s a bit fucked up).

“What have we done?  What have we become?” Johnny Roosevelt asked, bowing his head sadly.  We thought that REDACTED was done for.  He was drooling on himself, he started weeping for minutes at a time, he didn’t even crack a smile when he started slapping the waiter while screaming, “YOUR NAME IS BRIAN!  SAY IT!  FUCKING SAY IT!”

Vegans dress ridiculously.

We thought we might have lost him, and would have to chisel his name on our wall of fallen staff members, along such illustrious names as Hunter S. Thompson and Interns #1 through 354 (Interns are sort of the Spinal Tap drummers of our operation).  But there was a minor miracle, as REDACTED ran for freedom, fighting every vegetable-laden impulse telling his body to just give up, and he found the Mecca that is White Castle.  After a dozen sliders, our medical staff was on the scene, pumping him full of liquefied beef and various animal souls.  It was touch and go for a while, but REDACTED made it through.  When he recovered, we decided, one week after they day of his darkest hour, to give him a token of our appreciation.  Because we at AFFotD take care of our own.

So here, we present, REDACTED‘s night of American redemption.

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