Why the hell does Viagra need a prescription? (and other tangents)

This concept has always boggled my mind. Why exactly must a doctor write a prescription in order for you to buy penis enhancing substances? Isn't that your own business? Viagra should be OTC for the following reasons:

1) If you don't need Viagra, why the hell would you buy it? It's not exactly a happy occasion when you've lost your youthful energy and must resort to these boner pills. So obviously we see any normal man not needing this stuff won't attempt to get it anyway (hopefully).

That was the only reason. I think it's enough because what other reason can there be. How exactly do they check to see if a man really needs Viagra anyway? I honestly do not know because I can get it up on my own by playing Unreal Tournament. Do they bring in hot nurses and throw off your pants to prove you can't get it up? What if the guy is gay? He's proven his homosexuality, not his penis dysfunction.

This reminds me of the time I tried to go buy Viagra to slip in to some teacher's drink. What a stupid prank, who hasn't done it? Anyway, the doctors gave it to me without a problem. They even came along to see the effects of a funny prank. Doctors today ain't what they used to be. I put it in his coffee and during math he couldn't write quadratic equations anymore without hobbling. He made up some excuse about having a family wedding and ran out without his briefcase. Swell.

I decided since I can't stand people I'm gonna go on a huge tangent. People, stay the fuck out of my way. My rage is bubbling in my veins and I must vent now about someone who doesn't stop pissing me off. Here are 3 kinds of people that everybody loves but I hate.

1) The guy that never says where he is going but you still know where he is going. It's like he just can't say it because you'll find out something about him. Whenever I ask this idiot where he is going, he says "Somewhere down there". Thanks a lot. The next time I asked he says "I gotta get something from Syvert Avenue and 43rd street." I said "Dude, isn't that where you live?" Why the fuck can't he say I have to go home? Why must things always be a mystery? He's not my friend anymore.

2) The guy that wears gay clothes, spiky hair, nextel, and is always found among the most loser places of where I live. Those of you not acquainted with Brooklyn, this place is called Bissaleh. It's a shitty hangout that has Hooka in the back. Thrills and Chills huh? No. It's shitty. And the girls there need to shave. But there are people that hang out there ALL THE TIME. I swear I saw someone sitting outside on a milk crate when they were closed, counting down the hours to when he can be gay again. This isn't funny. I have to deal with this all my life. Goddamn those fucking Serians. They never go to school, they look ugly, and somehow they get so many chicks just because of their parents money. To a common girl's eye, she sees a guy wearing gay clothes, has a nice car, and has a wallet full of cash. How would she ever know that none of this actually belongs to him, thus the success. One day I'll have something he doesn't, a diploma and a job. What dipshits.


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