by P. S. Gifford
|Thursday, June 15, 2006
I saw these pills the t’other day,
As I was browsing on line when one of those pop up adverts got through
You know the ones-
We all get bloomin’ them.
For some reason though this one caught my eye…
Maybe it was the bold print.
Maybe it was the corny catchphrase.
Or maybe it was the buxom babe in the small bikini.
But I read it.
And then I read it again.
Sure I was skeptical at first.
I became tempted.
Then I became drawn in…
It told me that it cured pain
That it would even help me solve my financial troubles,
and that I would never have to worry about anything again.
Wow. I thought.
Can you imagine?
Surely it was worth the money to take a chance on that-
What is the worse that could happen!
So I eagerly paid my $9.95
And in twenty three days.
My pills arrived.
They came from a country I had never heard of.
In a strange brown paper package
And an even stranger bottle.
Odd I thought. Truly odd.
But I remembered the advert.
Word for word.
Image for image.
So I hastily swallowed a pill.
It was a big pill.
It bloomin’ burned as it went down my throat.
Until finally I felt it reach my stomach…
It was then
And only then
I decided to read the bottle.
“Arsenic,” It had printed in small print at the back of the bottle.
Bugger. I thought. I best write one last blog for weirdcrap.