Doctors these days! I’ve been having migraines now for six months and I finally went to see a doctor about them after a particularly bad headache caused me to crash my car into a KFC and the court ordered me to attend counseling. So I go to see this quack, this Doctor Windon, and get this, he says to me that I’d have less headaches if I didn’t just drink four gallons of Mountain Dew every day.
Wow, so it’s my fault? I’m the victim here and he’s laying the blame at my feet. He tells me I’ve got to drink more water. News flash moron, Mountain Dew has water in it along with high fructose corn syrup, caffeine, citric acid, and yellow 5, which has got to be better for me than yellows 1 through 4. I’m not some big-headed doctor person but that feels like it’s just science.
Anyway, this Windon guy tries to put me on a diet. No more Mountain Dew, not even Baja Blast, for two weeks to see if the headaches go and I said, nah Doc. I got to have my Dew. Then four of my teeth fell out, which keeps on happening, and I bounced.
This kind of victim blaming must go on all the time. Doctors are supposed to help, not judge. Unlike the judge who sentenced me to community service for the KFC thing. He was meant to judge. He nailed his role, unlike that preachy-ass doctor.
I asked my court-appointed public defender if I could sue the doctor for trying to get me off the Dew and he told me to stop calling him at 3 a.m. Sorry dude, you’re supposed to help me, and I haven’t slept in weeks so I have a lot of free time.
But I have a plan to keep doing the Dew. I’m going to see a doctor (not that victim-blaming ass Windon) and get a blood transfusion, only he’s going to swap my blood for Mountain Dew Code Red. Red Dew, red blood. What could go wrong?
So it turns out there are tons of things that could go wrong and every doctor I spoke to said that I was a dangerous moron for asking them to do that. Yeah, more victim blaming. We live in a society where a man can’t switch out his blood for that sweet, sweet Knoxville sugar water. It’s a travesty and as soon as my hands stop shaking enough for me to hold a pen I will be writing to my congressman asking, nay demanding that the rights our forefathers fought to enshrine into the constitution should extend to me drinking only Mountain Dew and people leaving me alone for it and not asking why my teeth are all rotting and green.
Until then I’ll be picking up trash along the highway and chugging back the green ambrosia until they take it from my cold dead hands.