See Our Ad, or The Lonely Life of a Golfer

You know what, guys? It seems like forever since I actually blogged. A real blog, not a picture-laden number, or an acrochallenge (which I thoughtlessly deprived you of this week). I've missed it, but I haven't really had much to say. Not that that's mattered in the past.

And actually, it's not quite true. I mean, I haven't had much to say, but that's basically because I haven't had much to think. I'm on the George Jetson Rotating Treadmill of Life lately, and it seems like there hasn't been a moment to stop, take a deep breath, and ask myself, "Have I been thinking lately?" When that happens, I obviously haven't.

So my thinking has been of the type where I'm trying to keep my head above water at work, and trying to score a million points in Text Twist, and... and, well, that's about it. I haven't watched a movie in a long time, and I'm afraid the Netflix people are going to send an unsavory character to the Poderosa to break my knees, and my house was a pigsty until last night, when I finally saw fit to clean it. I'm in the best shape of my life, due to the exercise, but none of my clothes fit. And if I sit still for very long, I seem to fall asleep rather quickly.

I think I might be getting old.

However, in those few minutes between my ass hitting the chair and my eyes falling closed, I have seen a little television here and there. I saw lots of episodes of "Dirty Jobs," starring Stennie's future husband Mike Rowe, over the weekend, and due to the fact that lying in a bed doesn't have the same effect on me as sitting in a chair, I've seen my share of wee-hour-morning fare.

And so I guess that means it's time for a word from our sponsors.

I've done my fair share of ranting about commercials for prescription drugs. But since this phenomenon became, well, a phenomenon, there's been one thing I've never mentioned. I've noticed it, sure, almost from the beginning, but I've never really said anything about it.

It's a little something called "See Our Ad."

Because almost every one of these prescription drug products, and when I say almost every one I mean every single one ever made, has a blurb somewhere in the small print overlay that talks about side effects, dry mouth, dizziness, and four-hour erections, and then invites us to see their ad in some particular periodical.

And so I've been paying a little attention, and keeping a few notes.

Here's the list so far.

Lipitor:

Lipitor, the "lower your cholesterol" pill that costs a million dollars a year. Or thereabouts. I know this because I used to take its cousin, Pravochol, which did the same thing. I lost a bunch of weight, and stopped taking it. And caring. I may be lighter, and my cholesterol may be 10000, but I don't care anymore. How's that for self-preservation?

Anyway, Lipitor is right on the ball, because they have as a spokesman no less a person than Dr Robert Jarvik himself, inventor of the artificial heart. And he's talking about how even though he invented this faux heart, this heartette, if you will, and it's a fine product indeed, he doesn't want to end up having to wear one in his own body. And so he takes Lipitor and follows a healthy diet, which is stupid, because it should be that if you take these drugs you can eat anything you want. Deep-fried Twinkies washed down with a shotglass of Crisco. Apparently, that's not the case.

And so while the small print is telling us about the side effects, the possible liver damage, the risks to women even thinking about getting pregnant (now, that's risky), and the abject poverty if your insurance doesn't pay for Lipitor, we see the blip. "See our ad in Health magazine." And that makes perfect sense. If you care about your health, and have the money to buy both Lipitor and Health magazine, then you're going to be fine. So eat up on the deep-fried Twinkie and park really close to the store. But you won't, will you? You health nut.

YAZ:

I know Yaz as a techno band from the 80s, but apparently this isn't them. This is YAZ, the birth control pill that not only keeps you from getting pregnant, but also relieves pre-menstrual stress and acne, which is good, because if you're not bitchy and pimple-ridden, you have a better chance of, well, you get my drift.

The commercial for YAZ shows a bunch of modern gals (only if they're that modern they probably would punch out the first person to call them such), sitting around a table at a cafe talking about "women's things." And so of course the smartest of these modern gals blurt out how they're on YAZ, and go on to extol its YAZish virtures. It's like your modern gal friends suddenly became OB-GYNs.

We learn from the girls, and the fine print, that YAZ can increase potassium to a dangerous level, and it doesn't protect against STDs, which, you know, how dumb does a person have to be to believe it would, and that it can cause weight gain, and so so much for the chipper personality and acne-free face. And then at the bottom of the screen, we get it. "See our ad in ELLE magazine." And that makes sense, too. Surely those modern gals getting horrid fashion tips and reading up on how to increase their orgasmic capacities would be interested in them a little YAZ. And ELLE probably has a few diet tips every month for the weight gain.

NuvaRing:

Speaking of birth control, let's move on to the NuvaRing, the little rubber ring that makes whoopee "whoopee" and not "oopsie." (That was so bad I can't believe I actually wrote it, and I apologize.) (Really, I apologize profusely.) (Really. Forgive me already, OK?)

If you go to NuvaRing's website, you can see their latest commercial, but what's more disconcerting is that you're forced to look at a video clip of a rather smug-looking woman - staring you in the face. Just standing there, shifting from side to side, staring you in the face as if to say, "Look at me, you loser. I need birth control!" I'm not kidding, it's uncomfortable. Go see for yourself.

This is the woman in the TV ad, and as she's telling you the wonders of her little blue rubber ring, we read the fine print below, if we have excellent eyesight, and find out that NuvaRing increases the risk of blood clots, stroke, and heart attack. And it may be as cute as a bug's ear, but please don't be so stupid as to think it'll prevent HIV. It's a ring! It's got a hole in it, for God's sake! And then it comes. So to speak. "See our ad in US Weekly."

A little farther from the beam, that one. But I guess the woman who's reading up on Mr Clooney and Mr Pitt and Mr Depp is looking for love in the real world, too. But if she's reading a lot about Mr Clooney, she's going to have to settle.

Nasonex:

Ahhhh, Nasonex. And I don't say "ahhhh" because I'm breathing better, though that's what Nasonex is for, I'm saying it because it was only recently I blogged about their commercials and spokesinsect, the Nasonex Bee. The Nasonex bee with an annoying Spanish accent that makes him sound like Antonio Banderas. I even included a picture of a bee with Sr Banderas' face superimposed upon it.

Mr Bee flies around a lot of flowers and sneezing people in his commercial, and there in between the fine print telling us about Nasonex's side effects of headaches, viral infections and sore throats, it also says, "See our ad in Health magazine." So this is fine.

But this isn't even the reason I added Nasonex to the list. I added them because in doing a little internet research I discovered - THE NASONEX BEE REALLY IS ANTONIO BANDERAS. It's confusing, it's a little upsetting, and for some strange reason I feel like I need to apologize to Sr Banderas for accusing him of being the Nasonex Bee. Even though he is.

I need to go lie down.

Rozerem:

Now, I make no pretenses whatsoever where Rozerem is concerned. I flat-out love their commercials. They're the ones featuring an insomniac, a beaver, Abe Lincoln, and what I thought was a spaceman, but it turns out he's a deep sea diver. They're his dreams, and they miss him. The beaver (who I also once thought was a groundhog but have been proved wrong again) is very surly, and Abe Lincoln apparently cheats at checkers. They're a goldmine of fun, these commercials.

But they're not without their fine print. There are side effects to Rozerem, including dizziness, fatigue, and the one I'm sure insomniacs everywhere in the world are salivating over, drowsiness. And after that stick and carrot comes the legend, "See our ad in Prevention magazine."

Prevention, huh? Correct me if I'm wrong, but I thought Prevention was the magazine of, well, let's go check to be sure. Here it is, and I quote, without permission: "America's leading healthy lifestyle magazine is based on a simple and powerful promise: Make little changes, get big results. Prevention speaks to readers in a reassuring familiar voice about family health, food, nutrition, workouts, beauty, cooking, and more."

Not drugs. However, go to their website sometime. It's so filled with ads for medications, I'm sure its founder is spinning in the grave. I'm assuming here the founder is dead, owing to the healthy lifestyle and all.

Lunesta:

Then, there's that other sleep aid, Lunesta. Same deal, only really boring commercials. Stressed out people trying to sleep, and some magical twirly butterfly flying around them, trying to make them sleep.

They also have the same fine print, with the added warning of not driving a vehicle or operating machinery while using their fine product, and they invite us to, "See our ad in US News & World Reports." Which begs the question. If you have a copy of US News & World Reports in front of you, why in the hell do you need Lunesta?

Detrol:

Detrol! My old friend Detrol, the anti-pee drug. Well, no, it's not my friend because I've taken it, or because I myself happen to be anti-pee or anything, it's just that I've blogged about Detrol more than once. They used to have the "gotta go right now" jingle, but they dropped it a while back. I haven't blogged about them since.

Their fine print says the Detrol patient can experience dry mouth and constipation while taking the drug, apparently everything dries up, and says, "See our ad in Cooking Light."

I don't know quite what to make of this one. Do people with overactive bladders enjoy cooking light more than the rest of us? Now, Cooking Quickly magazine, I could understand. Get that dinner done and hie thee to the bathroom. I guess cooking light enables one to move a little faster, which is apparently a good thing in the overactive bladder world.

And then, well, then there are those other drugs.

We all know how I hate those erection pills. God, do I hate those erection pills. I hate them because all over the world people are dying of cancer and Parkinson's Disease, and the scientific community came up with something to unflaccid a weenie. And what I hate more than the drugs themselves are their commercials. Although that's a little skewed, since if there were no weenie drugs, there'd be no commercials.

There are also the prostate drugs, which aren't so offensive in and of themselves, but their commercials are, simply because they seem to delight in telling us about the side effect of "decreased amounts of semen." I don't want to know about this. I don't care about glasses of semen as opposed to a droplet of the stuff. I don't want to turn on my TV, even alone in my home, and hear the word "semen." It makes me itch. Isn't it the job of the doctor you're supposed to consult to tell you your fireworks are going to be reduced to a damp sparkler and not the TV commercial? Of course it is!

Anyway, let's look at these drugs. Viagra and Cialis (which has the ungodly clinical name Tadalafil - ta-da! lafil) have scads of fine print, about heart health and drinking and drug interaction, and the tidbit every man is just dying to hear about, the legendary four-hour erection. Cialis' commercial features a couple relaxing outside in bathtubs, which is bizarre enough, but they're in separate bathtubs, which coupled with the thought of a four-hour erection somehow makes me squirm. Viagra's latest has a man wasting the entire town's water supply by sticking a water sprinkler on his soaped up vintage Corvette (can anyone say "penismobile?") while he goes upstairs to bounce around with the misssus.

Viagra? "See our ad in Golf Digest." Cialis? "See our ad in Golf magazine."

And Flomax, the prostate anti-semen prescription? "See our ad in Golf Digest." Hell, go to Cialis' website! (On second thoughts, don't.) They proudly serve up an ad proclaiming them an "official sponsor of the PGA Tour!"

Even Enzyte, which is not a prescription drug but a "natural male enhancer," and has perhaps the worst commercials this side of Hardee's, features that man I pray nightly will be hit by a falling piano, Bob. And in two - not one, two - of Bob's commercials, he's playing golf!

So what does that say about golfers?

I'm not sure. Apparently they're very lonely men who can't make it the whole 18 holes without trotting to the port-o-john.

Unless they take the above. In which case, not only will they be able to walk the whole 18 holes, but they can abandon their putters and still play. Providing the round of golf doesn't last more than four hours.

Betland's Olympic Update:
* Acrowinners, we have no acrowinners! We had no acro! Sorry, guys, I just didn't have it in me last night. Even the acrobasket was a little cranky.