All Hail Berocca

Ehrmahgerd.

I woke up earlier this week, with the abrupt beginnings of a cold. I'd gone to bed tired but peppy, and woke up with a nose full of hate, and a throat of acid. Blargle! "You ask me, I blame society."

So I went to my trusted friend, Berocca.

Kneel before Berocca, as you would before Zod.
(Superman 2 jokes are always funny. Always.)

  












Discovered this little beauty while living in London, and we've been inseparable since. Berocca is essentially like if aspirin, Airborne, and your multi-vitamin had a fizzy, fruity little baby. It nipped my burgeoning cold straight in the bud. Berocca has helped through colds, hangovers, and many other instances where I just woke up feeling shitty. It's the miracle drug they all thought Dr. Pepper would be. (You know you're getting old and useless when you are this excited about medicine.)

Until a few days ago, I'd never seen it in America. I had friends bring me over shipments ("Hey. You got the drugs?!?") whenever possible. So imagine my surprise when I toddled into the pharmacy downstairs in my office building and there it was, in all of it's glory...waiting to cure me of sickness I don't even have yet. I yelped in delighted surprise and did a little dance in the vitamin aisle. Other patrons craned their necks to see exactly what drugs I'm taking, and perhaps they should be on as well.
But what do I ask my friends to bring me from England, now that I can get my fix of the good shit stateside? The answer?
Imperial Leather Foamburst soap.

That's right. If I can't get medicine. I'll have soap. Then I'll take out my dentures and you can feed me soup before Matlock comes on.