While you are comfortly tucked away in the warmth and haze of your drug-induced stupor, let me remind you of one thing: unless you're seeking Tylenol, "Commodium A-D," Benadryl or Ibuprofen, you won't find drugs in the Litton home. No codones of any kind, no sinus meds to assist your meth lab efforts, not even "Robo-Cop" for you to drink away that persistent cough.
We have no need for erectile disfunction pills (oh my head, the traffic I'll get from that term!), so don't even think you'll be finding little blue pills in our cabinets...we refuse to assist you in any black market transactions.
There's nary a trace of anti-anxiety medication within these walls, because while I would most likely benefit from a few months of happy pills, I'm fine and dandy with just blaming it all on month-long PMS. (My dear family, thanks for enduring me.)
This warning is most likely a moot point (or as Joey Tribbiani once said, "A moo point." Thanks, Hot Tub Lizzy for reminding me of his classic quote!), as I'm well aware you've never been to Lulaville. Just in case, though...in the event you and your ilk are viewing internet porn and wind up here, because I know it' s happened before...just in case...I gotta put this out there: You will not get what you're looking for in this house. Stop hanging out in our general vicinity, stop having drunken sex anywhere near our property (what, are you bored with waiting for us to leave?), and for the love of all that's good and holy, stop destroying yourself. Please save the 17 brain cells I'm certain are hanging on for dear life. I mean this in the lovingest way possible. Drugs are ruining the lives of so many in our precious little community. Quit being a freakin' statistic. Again...in the lovingest way possible.
Finally...please...go away. We are tired of asking nicely. We are tired of calling the police departement on a regular basis. (But here's a shout-out to the LCSD--y'all are doing a fine job and we love you!) We are tired of coming home late in the evenings, or leaving on an early morning weekend and finding your truck parked not far from where our precious babies sleep.
You're never gonna get it...never ever gonna get it. (EnVogue much?) Not even a baby aspirin or a throat lozenge...so don't even try it. You're never gonna get anything.
*And this is where my tag line comes into play: Below the surface lies sweet rebellion. This rebellion ain't quite so sweet, y'all. I am meaning business here. As Heather would (sweetly) say, "Love me through this." Please!
Sic 'em, Barney.