Better Living Through Chemistry.

 

 

   I found these old ads on EatLiver.com's section for Vintage Ads.

    I just love it.  Without Thorazine, this old boy's scant inches away from rapping the socks off some unruly whipper-snapper with his trusty cane. 

    Do not agitate the unmedicated senile! 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

    Damn right!  I'm tired of toaster waffles and instant coffee.  Thank you Mornidine®.  You've turned my wife into a mad-cooking zombie whose repressed rage is percolating like the yummy pot of delicious coffee on the stovetop. 

    The thing is, can you imagine some loving hubby taking his over-worked, underpaid, depressed wife to the doctor saying "Gee-willickers Doc.  The missus is so sad all the time.  Could you give her a pill so she can get out of bed bright and early and make me breakfast?  That would be keen!"

     Then again, look at that mountain of bacon she's cooking and that smile on her face.  Someone is going to die soon...  very soon...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

    Watch out Canada!  Our pilots are hopped-up, tweaked-out, pill-popping, mallard-hunting maniacs.

     I think that pilot's hand is suffering from the low-level rigormortis that tends to set in after a six-martini lunch. 

   "Look!  I have a free hand!  If only I had a bottle of pills in this hand.  Dammit!  I could be popping amphetamines and attacking Canada!  Yeeeehaaaa!"

    Seriously.  What the hell did Canada ever do to us?  Did I miss a History class or something?  Was there a war?  Who won?

    Oh wait...  I forgot socialised medicine.  And, where there's socialised medicine, there's fistfulls of FREE amphetamines! 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

-DP