Tuesday, May 26, 2020

An Immodium Story or diarrhea is no fun




Our Dinner At Antoines

There are lots of people with diarrhea. All of those people are pissed off at the makers of Imodium and the secondary sellers of said product. Why do you ask, well let me tell you. Those asshats packaged their tiny little ass pills in a sorry blister pack that no one can open. Don't believe me, google it. The stories will make you sob. People with shit running all over themselves and they cannot open the blister packs to save their ass. IF you get my drift.

OK, just back had to take a break. Yep, in the bathroom.

Big Daddy and I both live on Imodium. I have IBS and BD has a sliced and diced anus from cancer. I go between serious and not and BD is a regular user, at least every day. We know our Imodium. The first time BD brought home the blister pack I told him, dude that will never work in your lifetime. You cannot get that damn thing open ever, and especially in the stall at the Sky Club when you really need it. So when life proved me right we sat down and cut all those damn blisters open with scissors and BD swore to never buy them again.

And then this happened. There are only blister packs available in the stores. And on line. The only thing the clerk could figure is that the manufacturers figured out no one would buy that shit and now with all of us cut off at our knees and Gretchen keeping us locked up at home they are gonna get rid of those fucking blister packs. Yep, that is all that is available.

Those bastards.

So we got the scissors back out and cut up the blisters. Fie on you bastards.

And Gretchen said her husband was only joking when he asked if he got special privileges cos he was married to the jailer. Yea, right.

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