I have a friend who discovered one evening that Ambien with a little beer produces a very pleasant euphoria, not unlike Quaaludes. For bloggers who were under the age of 12 in the 1970s, no self-respecting rocker in 1977 could go to a Led Zeppelin or Aerosmith concert without popping a couple of ludes. (Whereas Patti Smith concerts required a hefty handful of black beauties. Or so my friend says.)

The Ambien-Bud-martini seemed harmless enough at first. On those boring school nights, it bought him a Stairway to Heaven on which he could Dream On. But he started to do more, and he found that it often took him until 2 PM the next day to clear his head of the Zeppelin Afterglow. He confessed this to his physician, who promptly notified every health care provider that he might ever see in his geographic area that a prescription drug junkie was at large. The Ambien supply has, alas, dried up. So now, on the nights he can't sleep, he wacks off and takes Benadryl.

Colin beware!!!