I Am Happy Man, Part I: Pharmaceutical manufacturers are out of control.

Pharmaceutical manufacturers are out of control. Maybe it’s not all their fault, I certainly don’t have the information, the wit or a mastery of the language strong enough to trick you into thinking that those first two things don’t matter. But work with me here. Pharmaceutical manufacturers are out of control because they’re turning this country into a bunch of useless, swampthing motherfuckers who scour the earth all zombie-like for a little piece of what they assume is coming their way, only the drugs cloud their heads too much and they can’t figure out what THAT piece is.

They start them young: ADD, Ritalin, special ed., straight kids on the short bus, you name itâÂ?¦it’s all become a clusterfuck of domestic intoxication and the drugs are state-paid and by the dozen, gently colored and inviting. The strangest ailment you conjure up, even on the weirdest acid trip of all time has already been discovered and named by the mainstream doctoring community, the fax swiftly pumped to Pfizer and a brand new drug, past the FDA Brass and on a shelf near you in just a few weeks. But you knew that right?

You swear to yourself that the Zoloft is just a helper, that you’re chemical imbalance just needs some regulating. You might even try to wean yourself off it next month, or maybe sixth months from now. “It’s a fucking chemical imbalance,” you tell yourself, after she broke down crying, crying because you haven’t gotten an erection in 18 weeks. And your only 35, too young for one of those ED pills, but you’re getting nervous. Your wife starts threatening divorce, so you say what the fuck. You get the latest Viagra rip off, the one that promises 97-hour hard-on’s, you hope that’s not accurate but you say, “fuck it, I love my wife,” and you buy it.

Now you’re head is really messed up. You’re getting boners now, but they’re long, dry and almost painful. “Sex shouldn’t have to be like that,” you say, fighting back tears, tears that won’t come because you’re too dehydrated as you stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror at 3 AM. You can’t sleep now, and you’re dreading work in a couple of hours, the drug combination has led to horrible bouts of diarrhea and you get up to drink coffee that has never tasted worse in all your life, and then you wonderâÂ?¦

Is this happiness?

TO BE CONTINUED