Monday, December 27, 2010

As Much As I'm Sure You'd Love To Continue To Hear My Opinion About The Troops, I Think I'll Write About Last Week's Pill Counting Highlights Instead.

What is your name? Can you think of a simpler question? Seriously, I'm used to people who don't have any idea if they've ever set foot in one of the thousands of stores operated by my employer. I've also accepted the fact many people will come to the counter convinced they are at a CVS, which wouldn't be so bad save for the fact I don't and never have worked for CVS. But how the hell can you mess up the question "What is your name?"

The guy did. Took him a good couple of minutes to get the answer out. The education crisis in this country is real and will soon overwhelm us all my friends.

These types of problems are best left to the technicians though, as my massive brainpower is needed for the medical type questions. Like the lady at the blood pressure machine who asked me if a reading of 180 over 130 was too high.

I fired up my superbrain and told her yes, that reading was without a doubt too high. That she needed to see a doctor.

"Well my last reading was 150 over 112, so maybe my pressure isn't really that high."

I told the nice lady that even 150 over 112 was too high, and she really needed to see a doctor.

"But I don't want to see a doctor" was the reply. Unfortunately I was still expected to find a solution to this problem.

So I whipped out my counting spatula, which also doubles as a magic wand, lightly tapped her on the forehead, and sent her on her merry way, telling her she could be secure in the knowledge that her blood pressure would never be a problem again. My only regret was that she just didn't tell me she'd rather not see a doctor right off the bat. Could have saved us both a little time.

While this was going on I overheard a man talking to my trusty technician.

"We don't seem to have any prescriptions for you, was there anything you needed?"

"No."

Why a person comes to the prescription counter when they are not in need of a prescription is one of life's little mysteries. But it happens. More often than you would think. I suspect CVS  might be behind it.

There has been a bit of drama in the happy pill room of late amongst the staff. Nothing major. The type of petty politics that will happen when any group of people share a close space together for a few hours every workday. Long story short, there was a bit of a spat between the pharmacy manager and one of the technicians. The same technician who saves the used aluminum soda cans we use during the workday to cash in for the recycling deposit. After the spat, the manager reached into the recycle box, pulled out the two cans she had emptied that day, and put them into the regular garbage. I suspect my pharmacy manager will be promoted soon, and am confident she will fit into the corporate world quite well.

A deaf lady signed "Where's the bathroom?" and I understood her perfectly based only on the look upon her face.

The prescriptions were backed up like a 90 year old man on Oxycontin and I didn't have time for this shit. Have you ever called another store for a prescription transfer and wondered how the hell the person on the other end of the line could possibly have the same license as you? I know you have, and it seems to be happening with increasing regularity. Like the people who don't know what the words "NO REFILLS" on a prescription label could possibly mean though, I've come to accept it. Every once in awhile they still manage to surprise me though. Since this store was on the other side of the country, I was getting some basic information, the kind of thing that happens in every pharmacy, every day of the year.

"So what's your ZIP code?"

"My what?"

"Zip code. The last part of your address."

"Uhhhhhhh.........can you call back later?"

I gave up on the human with a college degree and professional license and  looked up the zip code of mystery on my smart phone.

And the machines took a step closer to the day when they will rule us all.

Thursday, December 23, 2010

Got Some Mail About That Last Post I Did.

Ahhhh....feeling the love....I knew I was poking a skunk with this one. But I gotta tell you, after thinking about it, the hate mail has changed my mind.

If my cellphone ever goes off at a military funeral, I might as well go ahead and answer it. Because if I repeat some mindless pap afterwards about guns, God, and country that will evidently make everything all right.

Your issue is with the government, not the soldiers. They are ordered to do a job, whether they like it or agree with it is not taken into account. 'not going' as you suggest is considered desertion and is an offense punishable by court-martial and imprisonment. Dishonorably discharged soldiers have a status similar to convicted felons in many states. "Not going" is not an option.

Yes it is. Lemmie present a couple cases to you.

Solider number one thinks to himself, "man, this war is bullshit, I don't agree with a goddamn thing we are doing here, but I'm gonna keep up with it because that's my job and what I've been ordered to do."

Many people die as a result. Some of whom had no part in this fight.

Solider number two says "man, this war is bullshit, I could no longer live with myself if I continue to carry out orders that are contrary to fundamental principles of humanity. Although it entails a great personal sacrifice, I shall no longer enable this unjust war, because some principles are more important than any individual. Although it may cost me my standing in society, I will no longer take part in the madness."

Which one of these people is the more courageous? The more honorable? The answer is obvious, but if you need a hint, going along to get along is rarely a sign of courage.

Why the misdirected anger? The vast majority of military personnel I have known choose the career because of the pay cheque.

* Smacking forehead* that's exactly why I am so angry at them.

"Hey, go kill that guy and I'll pay for your college tuition"

That's honorable? Really? Because if it is I will happily choose the path of dishonor.

I'm curious as to whether you would apply these same arguments to the soldiers who carried out the Tienanmen Square massacre or the policeman who broke up the Iranian Green Revolution of 2009. I hope you wouldn't. Repression is repression, injustice is injustice, and those who carry it out are wrong. The wars being fought in our name are unjust, and those carrying them out should not be supported.

Having said that though, there really are times you should let the call go to voice mail.

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

From The "Support Our Troops" File.

Which I don't. That's right. If you're a troop the only time I will support you is if you decide to find another line of work. You are necessary for the continuation of a policy I despise, and if you would stop doing what you are doing, that policy would end. So, yeah, I'm a little unclear as to why I should be cheering you on.

I would like to think though, that if I ever ended up at one of your funerals, I would have enough respect for the sanctity of life, even yours, that I wouldn't be...


...checking my cellphone behind your grieving widow. I'd also put on a tie and probably wear a suit. I'd definitely come up with something better than a t-shirt. Because unlike this douchebag, and unlike the people who hired you to kill for the empire, I realize that every life lived, by default, is worthy of a minimum level of respect.

Looks like you might need to relay that message to some of your supporters.

Monday, December 13, 2010

Report: Everyone Stupid.

TUSCALOOSA, ALABAMA (Drugmonkey News Service)- At a noontime press conference today, researchers at The University of Alabama released the results of a new study that, for the first time, shows 100 percent of the world's population is completely, unambiguously, and incurably stupid. The results sent shock waves through the international psychological community, as dumbfounded researchers scrambled to redefine accepted definitions of intelligence.

"Traditionally, we have worked off of what is called the 'percentile' model," lead researcher Dr. Beverly Thorn didn't say about the study that doesn't actually exist but you know easily could. "Meaning that we always assumed that 50% of the population was of below average intelligence, and 50% was above. It was truly startling to find that each and every human being on this planet has an intellectual capacity below that of sandstone."

"We're not really sure how that is possible," she didn't add. "This science stuff is really hard."

The biggest surprise in the report was the finding that you, too, are dumber than a three toed sloth. Your chronic inability to figure the correct tip at restaurants was the scientist's first clue to your idiocy. However, it was the time you once drove the wrong way into a narrow big-city alley and had to pay a homeless man to stop traffic so you could back out without killing yourself that definitively showed that for your own safety, you should always be kept away from open flames.

Outside experts were initially skeptical of the findings, with some pointing out that Alabama has long been known as the world capital of dullards, periodic challenges from West Virginia notwithstanding. "At first we thought those hicks were probably just looking around town and reporting what they saw," fictitious Oxford University professor Dr. Alvin Sturges said. "But analysis of the data shows that it's a wonder that any person can manage to cross the street, no matter if the intersection is in London, Buenos Aries, New York City, or an unpaved path in rural Botswana."

"It does offer insight into my first two marriages though, and gets us tantalizingly close to a unified theory of Kim Kardashian"

After presenting her findings, Dr. Thorn asked for questions from the assembled journalists. Receiving none, she left through an emergency exit, setting off a fire alarm that resulted in a three car accident when a motorist ignored the sirens of the responding ambulance.

Sunday, December 12, 2010

Those In The Employ Of George Bush Are Evidently As Good At Identifying Supporters As They Are In Identifying Countries Responsible For 9/11

Because I got a letter yesterday soliciting a contribution for the George W. Bush Presidential Center. Seriously. W thinks I'm gonna give him money. After all I've written about him over the last five years, I pop up on a list of people who may be willing to part with their pay in order to show their gratitude for everything he did to this country.

Suddenly I'm not afraid of the power of the surveillance state at all.

You know what I think would be fun? A mash-up kinda thing. Like alternating actual words in that letter with actual things that have appeared in this blog. Here we go:

As we break ground on the George W. Bush Presidential Center, every effort is being made to ensure longtime supporters of President and Mrs. Bush are involved from the outset.

December 11th, 2007- I Bet I Could Defeat George Bush In A Boxing Match. What I would have to do is use my jab to keep Bush on the outside, because you know damn well if he got in close he would fight dirty. Elbows, kidney punches, ear biting, he would do it all. I would definitely have to establish my jab early. And watch out for any attempted waterboarding or extraordinary rendition attempts between rounds.

You have been a great friend to president and Mrs. Bush and it would be an honor to be able to show your name on the list of those who have accepted.

June 7th, 2008- "It's been a core belief of mine that the federal government should stand for killing people" George Bush once didn't say in an interview. "Sometimes that requires an active killing policy, like in Iraq. In other instances, it's best to just let things take their own course, like during Hurricaine Katrina, or health care, where lots of people no doubt are dead because we don't really have a plan."

"I really like dead people" concluded Bush.

Your steadfast support though this often tumultuous period was of enormous help to President and Mrs. Bush.


May 24th, 2008-



You most likely get the idea by now far better than George The Lessor ever will. Nonetheless, let me try to spell it out in a way even he might understand:

Mr. Bush,

I hate you. Every fiber of my being down through the marrow of my bones despises the very thought of your essence. You can have my money when the budget you wrecked with your bullshit tax cuts comes back into balance. When you find those weapons of mass destruction you used to scare the sheeple of this nation into becoming a bloodthirsty lynch mob. When the 100,000 people you killed, who had no part in the fight you started, come back to life. I'll send you a check just as soon as the blood comes off your hands you homicidal, psychopathic, pathetic shell of what a human could be. Your letter came with a certificate "confirming me as a Charter Member" of your presidential center. Please find it enclosed. I'm not telling you what I stained it with.

Sincerely,
Drugmonkey

I figure Cheney will probably ask for a few dollars sometime next month.

Tuesday, December 07, 2010

My Kindle Nightmare Is Over, Which Means Your Dream Reading Experience Can Begin.

You know, I think the ideal Christmas gift would have something like this to say about the holiday:

For someone who professes to love us all, you'd think that maybe the thought our time could be worth a little something might enter Jesus' skull once or twice. That maybe Jesus could tell us, "You know, there's no need to go all out for my birthday. Really. Me and my Dad, the all knowing, omnipotent creator of universes known and unknown, the Deity that can part seas with his breath, move mountains with his pinky and knows the exact number of hairs on your head, I'm sure we'll come up with something. Don't put yourself out just on my account."
"And there is really no need to invent The Clapper to sell in the season of my special day. You work too hard for your money."
That's what my Uncle Harold would say. Uncle Harold always insisted we never make a big deal about his birthday, because that was just the kind of guy Harold was. Unlike this prick Jesus who pretty much ruined my whole week with this Christmas shit.
And by whole week I mean entire month of December. And part of November as well. Traffic gets backed up because of a goddamn parade. People everywhere I want to shop. A big pile of pine trees right where I normally park my car at work. All because this savior of mankind lets it go straight to his head.
I got news for you Jesus. I once saved the life of a mouse we found in the backroom of the store. That's right. Instead of killing it, I captured the little guy and let him loose in the woods in back of the mall. And I don't expect the mouse to buy shit every year for my birthday either. I think maybe I could teach you a thing or two about humility Mr. Son of God.
The sad thing is it's not just me that gets screwed. The entire goddamn planet has to put their lives on hold just for Jesus every year. Fuck it makes me so mad. I got over birthdays when I was like 9, and Jesus still gets all giddy like a girl after 2000 of them? Give me a break.
Buddhism looks better every day. No wonder there are so many Buddhists.

Which is why I think my book is the ideal Christmas present. Because that was an excerpt from my book.You should totally show Jesus Christmas is just about the stuff by buying a copy. And now, finally,  you can put it on your Kindle, which is a bit of stuff I still don't quite understand, other than to know I get a bigger royalty when someone buys a Kindle version. So um, yeah, I'm all about the Kindle. In your face Jesus. I'm gonna make some money off your birthday.

Go here to get a copy of the greatest pharmacy book ever written for your Kindle. 

Or here to get me in your Nook. Which sounds kinda fun depending on your attractiveness. 

And if you're a fan of the paper, you can order a copy here. 

Enter The Egghead

I bet you didn't know you're reading an object of scientific fascination right now, did you? That at this very moment your eyes are set upon a subject of learned minds seeking insight into the ways of the world, thirsty for knowledge and understanding, searching for a key to unlock a bit of the vast unknown that surrounds us in a blanket of ignorance.

I'm not kidding you. This is a real study that appeared in a real scientific journal:

Purpose. The characteristics of pharmacist blogs were examined.
Methods. Internet search engines, blog aggregators, and blog rolls were used to identify pharmacist blogs. Six categories were developed to evaluate blogs, including practice-based topics, identifying information, positive language, critical language, professionalism, and miscellaneous. The most recent five posts on each pharmacist blog were reviewed. Descriptive statistics were used to characterize the results.

I don't know if this project was funded. I do know that someone out there, three people actually, according to the author credits, thought this was the best use of their time. Since they sunk what I'm willing to bet was a fair amount of it into this, why don't we go ahead and see what the great minds of the profession were able to learn:

The most popular pharmacist blog in our study, with a Technorati authority score of 118 (as of January 2010), was “Your Pharmacist May Hate You."

As the kids would say, Woot!

"Blogs containing posts with language of a positive nature were less frequently indexed (32%) compared with those with critical language (57%). Overall, pharmacist bloggers in the community pharmacy setting accounted for 60% of all instances of critical language recorded."

"Community-based pharmacists were observed to write posts with unprofessional language more frequently (n = 15) than were noncommunity practitioners (n = 6)."

"Curiously, the only two pharmacist blogs ranked by Technorati not primarily characterized as “ranting” (i.e., “Science-Based Pharmacy” and “Prescribing Advice for GPs”) are authored by pharmacists outside the United States."

"there was also a troubling amount of pessimism in some of the most widely read blogs."

So what do the eggheads make of all this?

This finding raises several questions.What significance can be ascribed to “The Angry Pharmacist” and “The Angriest Pharmacist” being among the most influential and viewed pharmacist blogs? What is the impetus for such widespread vitriol? Is it a reflection of a plunging job satisfaction rate in the community sector...

Gasp! Could it be? Retail pharmacists not happy with working at a breakneck pace for 12 hours at a time with 5 people demanding their immediate attention, three of which who want to know where the bread is? My God! Who had any idea? We should fund more studies to find out what effect giving away a bag of dog food with every flu shot might have on professional satisfaction. I mean, could earning a Doctor of Pharmacy degree after 6 years of grueling academic labor and tuition payments so one can work a drive through window lead to....low job satisfaction?

There's just so much to learn. A Universe of unknowns.....

Here's the olive in the martini:

Whether such blogs actually reflect the current state of practice anywhere is debatable

So.....not only did these people not have a the slightest grip on the obvious going into this, even after unearthing more than a little evidence....they're just not sure....

And they say academics are out of touch.

I have a better idea for your next project professor. Instead of hiding behind computer screens and number crunching calculators at the library for months on end, why don't you just go on down to your local Walgreen's and put in half a days work, assuming you have a license to practice pharmacy that is. You do that and I'll betcha your next little article will have a headline something like, "ALL PEOPLE SUCK PENIS"

You're also far more likely to come back with a clue than you ever will be writing bullshit like this. Take it from me, author of the most popular pharmacist blog in your study. The only thing you've managed to prove is that you have no fucking idea.

Wednesday, December 01, 2010

The Greatest Pharmacy Book Ever Published Is Now Available On Your Favorite E-Reader.

As long as your favorite e-reader is the Nook. I'm sorry Kindle readers. The people doing the Kindle file are taking their sweet fucking time, but it's coming, I promise.

For now though, those of you with a Nook have a reason to feel superior about your purchasing decision. You can go here and be reading this gem and many like it within minutes:

I always wanted to make some sort of mix tape of the random noises that are left on the store's voicemail overnight. That is how I start my day. Listening to the random noises. A lot of times it's the tones of someone trying to punch in a refill number. More often than I can count it's a befuddled "uuuuuhhhhhhhhh" followed by silence and a click. Once I swear it was just 15 seconds of slurping. Today it was someone singing the Hall and Oates classic "Maneater"
"Ooooohhhh-ooohhhh here she comes/watch out boy....she'll chew you up....."
Someone sang that into the store's answering machine. Listening to it is how I started my day.
I decided to test a new theory today. Whenever someone decided to interrupt me filling your prescription by asking the location of some product in the store, and I had no idea where the product was, I just sent them as far away from the pharmacy as possible, on the assumption that either; 1) They would find what they were looking for while making their way to the store's far corner, or 2) They would come across a store employee whose responsibilities actually include stocking the shelves. It seemed to work out pretty well. Only one person came back to the pharmacy to ask again, and I was on the phone and didn't have to talk to them. I can't believe it took me so long to think of this.
Actual conversation with a doctor's office:
Doctor's office: "Hi, I'm calling to authorize some refills for John Smith's Protonix."
Me: "OK"
Doctor's Office: "So, how many refills should we give him?"
For those of you not familiar with the process, it is traditionally the role of the doctor to issue a prescription, the doctor having been the one who's examined the patient and in theory the person with the slightest idea how serious the patient's stomach condition is. I said 12 because it was the first number to pop into my head. I thought the lady at the doctor's office would stop and ask me why I thought 12, at which point I would sarcastically rip into her for being dumb as a doornail. She didn't. John Smith got 12 refills. Some doctor out there feels comfortable having this kind of medicine practiced in his name.
Please don't tell me you don't realize the name "John Smith" was made up. Back to the day's action:
Someone asked me where the paternity tests were while they were holding a baby. They had quite the sense of urgency. It would have made for the best video blog post ever. Moving on......
"Hi.....uuuhhhhhh....yeah.....this label says not to take if you're allergic to shellfish.......but I have high cholesterol...."
I waited for the string that would tie that sentence together. It never came. The statement was already nicely bound up in some sort of point deep inside the customer's brain. The fact that it was bound in a way utterly incomprehensible to anyone else didn't matter. He knew drugboy would make it all better.
Another customer tried to forge a prescription for Patanol. Patanol is an eye drop used to relieve allergy symptoms, and some customer thought it would be easier to try to pretend they were a doctor phoning in a prescription for it than to contact their actual doctor. Their eyes must have been itching crazy bad.
Yet another customer asked me if he could eat hot dogs if he was taking Viagra. I was able to dig out the point here. He saw the warning on the Viagra label about nitroglycerin and thought it might apply to the nitrites in his wiener.
Not his Viagra wiener. His ketchup and bun wiener. See why I had to go to college for so long now? It's important to keep the wieners straight. Which is where the Viagra comes in. OK, I gotta stop. I'm killing me.
Speaking of wieners, I can't get that Hall and Oates song out of my head now. Or maybe the term "douche bag" would apply more to Hall and Oates. I'm not sure.
Fans of the paper can get a copy from my Amazon page, and if the people working on the Kindle file don't hurry the fuck up, I'm just gonna do it my own damn self over the weekend. The people working on my Kindle file are fuckers.