Smobriety Cleanup News
So, since I decided several days into my smoking cessation to go cold turkey, I wound up with a mostly-unused bottle of Wellbutrin. I thought about the many different ways I could dispose of the Happy Pills—I’m not a pill-taker, really, despite this one time I recreationally took a couple-three Percosets and had an hour-long orgasm, which actually left me feeling quite jealous of Sting for the first and only time in my life—but I opted to go for the upstandingly socially-responsible route of flushing the pills down my toilet. For some reason, though, they won’t go down. They’re still in there, slowly dissolving, after about eight flushes over the last twenty-four hours. And it just occured to me a minute ago that, right now, I have the happiest toilet in the Seattle metropolitan area. For some reason, this, in turn, makes me really happy. So, see? Antidepressants work, after all!
and this makes me happy for you... the chain just keep on going!