Wouldn’t “used” prescription drugs have to have been reconstituted after passing through a person’s body?
Since my water supply comes from Lake Ontario, I get my used prescription drugs from the tap free.
“pre-owned”.
I prefer getting my used prescription drugs unlabeled. It’s like the dented can bin at Safeway, except instead of maybe-soup or maybe-dog food it’s maybe-boner or maybe-tripping balls.
Mix and match! Never know when you’ll get the tripping-boner.
I remember reading about a guy who found a rare, mint condition 1978 Valium in a yard sale dollar bin. Sold for like $30,000. True story.
With this new structure how am I supposed to know if it’s “prison yard” value or “suburban yard” pricing?
I would have thought you would go with “boner-balls” instead of the tripping-boner.
I saw it on Apothecary Roadshow.
Great. Now the hipsters will be all over this, and there’ll be no more thrift store Quaalude finds. Motherfucker.
“pre-enjoyed”
I thought your water was being filtered by Zebra mussels?
I have a ridiculous stash of Metformin which my doctor just took me off of. Of course this is the cheapest diabetes drug in human history and the whole pile of bottles is probably worth about ten bucks maximum.
If it was Levemir I no longer needed, I’d have to consider the black market. I have about three mortgage payments worth of it in the fridge right now.
When I lived in Russia in 1993-4, I’d see little old ladies (struggling to make ends meet on their pensions) sitting in the Metro stations with baskets full of unlabelled pills for sale, simply calling “Medicine! Medicine!”
My roommate would sometimes buy a handful to wash down with beer/vodka, see what happened.
So? Don’t leave us hanging.
Um, nothing good happened? Ever? The incident that sticks in my mind is when he told me he’d introduce me to his wife (who he’d recently abandoned for a burnt-out once-mildly-famous rock star), but it turned out he didn’t want to face the awkward situation sober. He was so wasted on “medicine” and beer that he barely survived the terrifying St. Petersburg Metro escalator–I kept having to catch him. He then proceeded to use me as a distraction (“Here’s my wife. Talk.”) while he went into the kitchen and crammed all the food he could find into bags. After about five minutes of leftover looting, he just left with most of the food in the house. And later he claimed not to remember any of it, although it was pretty clearly planned out.
I guess the moral is that alcohol and unlabelled medicine enable assholes to be assholes? So don’t do it if you’re an asshole?
Okay, I know a former cop who, for realz, arrested a dude who turned out his car trunk was full of sex toys. He said he bought them all at yard sales. 
