It may have been 95 degrees yesterday, but fall is still in there air. That means that whatever I'm allergic to this time of year is keeping me stuffy and runny at the same time. Fortunately for me, some pseudoephedrine, as I affectionally call them, "my little red pills," clears me right up without drowsiness nor pain in the pocketbook.
Apparently, though, it is necessary for me to stand in line at the pharmacy--behind mothers who must have chronically ill families judging by their cart full of drugs--to purchase my $2.84 30-count box of little red pills.
And why is this?
Because of the damn meth heads.
Do I look like a meth head?
Well, I guess it could happen.
But I am not. So, thank you very much to all the low-lives out there who infect the youth with their cheap batches of chemical thrill and and blow up their bio hazard kitchen laboratories.
Thank you very much bringing on another nuisance to my life.