Listlessly reading The Evening Standard last night after a blah-de-blah day, delaying the inescapable "bedtime routine" with the delightful Lisherlicious (secretly hoping daddy would oblige and bless him he does), I come across a report regarding a gi-normous pharma company that has had to pay out £877 million to patients in the US taking its schizophrenic drug, who now claim to have developed diabetes as a result.
Taking a moment to reflect I think: Well, that's unfortunate. I mean, bad enough you're mad as a box of frogs, now you've developed an appetite the size of a supermarket's snack aisle; You already have an American-style capacity for eating to begin with, I mean, this is terrible news.
Worse still, the aforementionned pharma company had also, it was claimed been pushing the drug for unapproved uses including insomnia. So not only can you now not sleep, you've got the sweet-tooth from hell, which if not satiated wouldn't just lead to grumpy exchanges with colleagues and family members, it could positively tip you over the edge - into a coma.
Imagine the police report:
Clinically obese male, caucasian apparently suffering the combined effects of exhaustion and 'severe munchies' has been found unconscious in his kitchen, his hand in a cookie jar. His condition had been described as stable but ravenous and mad (figuratively speaking not literally, though as we've seen that too is not out of the question.)
Each claimant has received around USD11,000 (that's about £8,500). Should buy a few chocolate bars.
Irreverent? believe me I know and I pay for it ALL THE TIME.
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