Based on an extremely limited sampling of the product, I’ve come to the conclusion that Viagra can be a cunt, and I offer IsAC followers a health warning.
So what’s the story? Well, it started last Saturday, after I met my pal Big Al for a refreshment. ‘Here Ron’, says he, ‘have you ever tried Viagra?’. ‘No’, says I, ‘why are you asking? Have you then?’.
‘Yeah’ says he. ‘Got some from the chemist. Honestly it’s fucking brill. Makes you like a baseball bat. Listen, I’ve brought you a few. Go on, try it’. ‘Well, I don’t know’, says I doubtfully. ‘I don’t think I need it, and I wouldn’t feel confident about using it unless on a doctor’s advice’. ‘You don’t need a bloody prescription’, he persists. ‘You’ll feel like you’re eighteen again, straight up *phnarr phnarr*. The wife’ll love it’.
So I took them, and tried one the following evening. I can indeed report that it was like being eighteen again, and my knob did indeed feel like a baseball bat. Sadly the trouble started a couple of nights later, when I took another one. After a bit of fooling about with the wife, my knob didn’t feel so much like a baseball bat but a telegraph poll, and a bastard aching one at that.
Well I waited for things to slacken off a bit, but they didn’t, and the pain got worse. After an hour, I was starting to sweat cobblestones. ‘This is that twat Al’s fault’ says I, groaning. ‘You can’t blame Alan’, says the wife. ‘He didn’t twist your arm. I’ll have a look on the internet’.
After the checking came the verdict. ‘If it lasts longer than four hours, get advice from the NHS line or go to A and E’. ‘Oh ffs’ says I, ‘can you imagine going to A and E like this?’.
So began an agonising wait. An hour passes. An hour and a half. I discover that an ice pack is no help. Finally, as the two hour mark passes, the pain starts to ease, and my steel boner begins to subside, much to my relief.
Now I’m sure that over the years, Viagra’s helped many a punter keep his hopes up, but it’ll be a long day before I go near the stuff again, and if I need to, only on medical advice. I’m not trying to put the wind up anybody; all I’m saying is ‘gae canny’ with this stuff. You don’t want to end up pole-vaulting through the window.
Nominated by: Ron Knee



