Behind every drug-induced tragedy, there is someone providing the drugs, and it isn't always the pusher on the corner:
The chiseled professional wrestler suspected of last week's murder-suicide was prescribed a 10-month supply of steroids at least every four weeks, according to a federal indictment Monday of his Carrollton doctor.
Dr. Phillipe Astin III dispensed potentially dangerous drugs "like candy," said U.S. Attorney David Nahmias.
"Like candy"? Come on now. They always say that, and it makes it sound like there are people just standing around waiting to give you handfuls of candy. The only time that even comes close to happening is on Halloween, and you really have to work at it, wearing these ridiculous costumes and trekking all over town. Any other day, not only are people not just handing out candy, they are actually trying to thwart our cravings: It'll spoil your dinner, it'll make you fat, it'll rot your teeth, kid.
Lord, I wish I had a York peppermint patty or a Hershey bar. I had some cooling in the refrigerator, but they seem to be gone now. Where was I? Oh, yeah.
We had to work for our candy when I was growing up, I can tell you that. I remember this one time, I walked to the country club and caddied for four hours in the hot sun. I bought candy with the pitiful $4 I made, and I had eaten it all by the time I got home.
Do you have some candy? I bet you do. Maybe there is a Reece's Cup on the kitchen counter or some gummy bears on the coffee table. Would you look? I'll wait right here.
Giving out drugs "like candy"? What would that really be like? How do you suppose all these cocaine-snorting, crack-smoking, steroid-ingesting freaks would like it if they had to walk around in the hot sun for four hours just to get a fix?
Look, it's not a craving, really, and I don't eat the candy just to sculpt my body into the perfect shape. It's a blood-sugar thing. Hey, I KNOW you have candy. You just don't want to give it up. You're HOARDING it. How long do you think you can just SELFISHLY keep something you know somebody else needs. I can FIND OUT where you LIVE!!!
Ooh, just found an M&M in the crevice of the couch. Guess I won't have to make that call to the doctor. Hey, You stupid cat! Bring that back!! You have to LIVE HERE, mister!
This is in incredibly bad taste, isn't it?
