In these recent dark times, in allegedly enlightened nations near and far, gormless governmental bodies have reacted to screeching tabloid reports of bikie gangs cooking dodgy meth from Sudafeds and force-feeding it to their constituents' toddlers by banning the sale of pseudoephedrine-containing cold and flu medication, and replacing it with 'equivalents' containing phenylephrine. (A slightly different, and somewhat less legally supported strategy of drug substitution than that allegedly attempted by animal rights fucktards in the UK.) Sure, the Good Shit might have been supplementing the raw materials stockpile of the rostered cooks out the back of the clubrooms of Festering Toejam Scrapers MC, but when it came to telling your flu symptoms to fuck the fuck off, They Worked. Whereas on a scale of one to busted-arse-useless, the 'new formula' PE drugs are approximately as efficacious against colds and flu as shouting at them, and slightly less effective than rude gestures. (P<0.05, ANOVA). They Do Not Work.
As a result, hapless muppets like you and me (but mostly you) have to traipse off to work functioning at the intellectual level of a fungally infected donkey scrotum, just without the sparkling repartee, badinage and card tricks. The end result: productivity fail. Whether from absenteeism or presenteeism, shit flu drugs cost us all money. For all that, society better be scoring a fucking big payoff in terms of bearded cunts on stolen choppers finding it harder to meet demand on the street for the ice ice baby to go. Someone needs to do the maths on that. If we're in net plus, alright. So it is. If not, imma go cough on some policy making motherfucker.
The Doctor is OUT.
PS I did end up finding real flu drugs. On a dodgy street in South D. Figures, really.