Grievous Bodily Harm

Remember the old days when we all used to drink a bunch of GHB until we passed out in mid-sentence and pissed ourselves?

Oh, wait, that was just me. None (very few, rather) of you knew me in those days. Ahh, yes, the salad days (in the, Shakespearean sense mind you).

Back then we called it “scoops,” because it came in a powder form, straight from the GNC Health Food store, and then later from the pharmacy. You just mixed yourself a scoop up in a glass of water and voila, Instant Heaven.

That is, until you kept throwing back the caps, taking more and more, because you couldn’t stop yourself and because, by that point, you didn’t know any better anyway, and you ended up overdosing, passing out, losing control of your bodily functions, and nearly dying right there in front of your laughing dazed smiling friends. Yeah, the good old days, right?

We also used to call it Grievous Bodily Harm, which also illustrated our stupidity since that makes the acronym GBH, instead of GHB. Whatever. We were FLY-ING! We were D-U-M-B!

But then the FDA and Congress got all involved and ruined our reindeer games. Now we had to rely on our friends and chemists working out of their homes to produce it. :(

But what's my point?

It's baaaaa-ack!



And it's respectable now! Because the drug manufacturer says so I LOVE the disclaimer, by the way, which identifies death as a potential "adverse event" and cautions of "neuropsychiatric events" even if taken as recommended). It is "no more harmful that table salt" according to Dr. Gleason, who prescribed it to many patients for everthing from insomnia to depression!

Wow, I was a little depressed last year. I sure wish Dr. Gleason had been my doctor. NOT.