Despite the elusiveness of an equivalent female wonder drug, my sleep walking self is bound and determined to get herself some Viagra. Apparently she’s not getting any, and side effects be damned, she’s going to get some satisfaction even if it results in stubby beard growth. Day after day, she nudges me by e-mail, sending urgent messages from my very own account. She has an inside track, someone at Pfizer, at the Official Viagra Site. It seems like she’s got something on someone, because the deal just gets better and better. Five percent savings not enticing enough? How about 9? Still not sure – 34%. Oh, all right 99% off. For just 1% of the actual retail price my alter ego can have a four hour non-stop pass on the roller coaster of love. It must be very frustrating for her. Every day a new offer is discarded like yesterday’s coffee. Every night she awakes, hoping this is the night she hold hands in his and hers bathtubs, only to be quashed once again. If she’d spend more time cleaning, and less time perusing the Internets, she’d realize the whole exercise is pointless. We don’t own any bathtubs. My advice to her? Grab yourself some Sominex, sister, and sleep, sleep, sleep.
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