Eat The Cure

I was looking through my favorite pharmaceutical company’s recent catalog trying to decide whether I would look better on a hair-growth drug or a weight-loss supplement when I realized I am depressed that I am not depressed.

Then I didn’t think about it for a little while, which made me at least hopeful that I have Adult ADD.

I think something bothers me. Or more accurately – I think, therefore something bothers me. It seems that if there is nothing wrong with you in modern America, something is wrong with you. What is wrong with you? That is the question.

Is it nobler to suffer the slings and arrows of real disease or to succumb to the guilty pressure of jingly advertising? The people selling the snake oil do not care. They just want you to buy their pharmaceutical cure. But first, you need assurance that something bothers you.

That’s why I have been taking prescription-strength cheeseburgers for my high cholesterol. They are safer on my heart than what you can get off the street. And yes, if I am hungry and I see a cheeseburger laying in a puddle of oil and mud, I always eat it. Don’t you?

So I was looking at my yellow toenails and scratching my elbows thinking of all this when in walked my special lady. She smiled at me like she wanted up to four hours of fun right now.

But I hadn’t taken my cheeseburger.

Plus, I was having problems sleeping. For the first time in my adult life, I felt like I belonged. I needed someone to talk to so I joined a group – Cheeseburgers Anonymous.

Finally, I was depressed. This made me ecstatic.

Because cheeseburgers taste good.