Why not? What have you got to lose? Would I lie?
Swiss and American scientists have isolated the hormone, produced by the hypothalamus, that induces feelings of trust, oxytocin. This chemical stimulates uterine contractions during labor and induces milk production.
In both women and men, oxytocin is released during sex. Which could explain some of my strange behavior in college.
But the scientists have taken oxytocin one step further and did what any red-blooded capitalists would do; they synthesized it and are planning to market it in the future as a nasal spray.
Soon, pending FDA approval, you’ll be able to shoot “trust” up your nose. The scientists claim that the new drug will have many useful applications. Autistics will be able to take the drug and hopefully begin to make more meaningful human connections. And there’s no better way to stop your head from exploding during an election year.
Plus now that “morning after regret” can be staved off for days and days.
Researchers claim that it really, really works. They took a couple groups of people and administered the drug to some and a placebo to others. They then measured their level of trust by pitching them an investment scheme. The people who took oxytocin invested, on the whole, 17% more in the scheme than those on the placebo.
Which means that oxytocin is effective.
And this could possibly become the most well-funded drug in history.
But there’s always a down side to any drug. No matter what the drug or its purpose, there will always be the asshole who abuses it for “recreational” purposes. (Right now, there’s probably someone out there trying to get high off of Preparation H.)
Dude! What the hell did I do last night? All I remember is that I took like three noses-full of “trust candy” and I start acting like a freaking puppy dog. All ‘Oh yeah, that sounds great’ and like ‘what a good idea’ and junk. But man, let me tell you, I’ve got to stop ridin’ the trust pony, dude. Nylons itch like a mo-fo! And what I was talked into doing next – hurt waaaayyy more than that guy said it would. Where did I put that tube of junk I tried to get high off of yesterday?
Fun Fact: Why not go and visit kevinsage.com. Come on. He’s become a superhero. He actually got a new friend to record a little something on his answering machine.
And a new game!
I call it: “Who am I and What am I selling?” or “What’s my line.”
Not very good titles, but…
Here’s the way you play. I write the inner monologue of a timeless character in a “popular” television commercial. Then you have to guess who I am and what I’m (possibly inadvertently) selling. Got it?
My friends warned me about her. They said the she’ll love you and leave you. Just like that. She has a strange way with people. I should have known by the way she treated her roommate and her roommate’s cats. One day everything’s going fine and then POOF, gone. Not even a “so long sucker.” She said it was different with me. She said she liked my cats. She said “they don’t look like the kind of cats that shed too much.” That was really something coming from her.
She had a strange way with people. She could collect them and throw them away like it was nothing. But that wasn’t going to happen to me. She liked me. And she liked my cats.
But that was three years and one horrible breakup ago. Horrible for me anyway. She didn’t seem to even flinch. One day I’m making a tasty salad and the next thing I know…POOF, I’m gone. Just like her roommate. And her dog. And get this, she said it wasn’t me. It was my CATS! Shallow, huh? She used to say she loved my cats. But love goes sour I guess. And cats that “look like they don’t shed too much” actually do.
But that was three years ago. Now I’m back. As if by magic. She wants me back. Seems that she found something great to help her cope with my cats. And her dog. And her old roommate. And now she wants me back. Like nothing happened. Just POOF and I’m the BF again.
But I’ve moved on. I met Sally. She loves me for me. And she loves my cats. Although she accidentally backed over one with the Surburban. But she felt real bad about it. I can’t just pop back into my old life. She can’t make me. She can’t toy with me like this.
It would be a lot easier if I didn’t still love her so damned much.
She has a strange way with people.