Now hear me out, you variegated vagabonds of the virtual veldt. I find myself, as I often do, in the throes of existential ennui and corporeal caprice, which has sent me trawling the underbelly of the internet in search of solutions to my own maladies – a grand, dangerous adventure in the treacherous wilds of the World Wide Web. On today’s exploit, we scrubbed the barnacles off a behemoth of curative titillation – 'Gwendoline’s Whale-Sweet CBD Elixir.'
Naming a product 'Gwendoline's…' does bring forth a certain mental image, does it not? A memory of a dear dame who could knead dough and life’s troubles into submission with equal élan. Yet, I could hardly get past the latter part – 'Whale-Sweet.' Upon inquiring, I was informed that a humpback whale was part of their rigorous product testing scheme. Most peculiar indeed, and decidedly not vegan friendly!
The product itself came in a delightfully rustic flask and promised to soothe the articularis cubiti's persistent pesterings – a promise worth its weight in gold to an octogenarian eccentric such as Yours Truly. After all, I had this prose to compose, and the clicking and clattering of my vintage typewriter needed the singular dance of my nimble fingers, unhampered by any articular antagonists.
So it began, dear readers – the titanic tango with Gwendoline's Elixir. As suggested, I placed ten drops beneath my tongue, and I won't mince words – it tasted like I'd just French-kissed the Loch Ness Monster after she'd had her supper of seaweed and herring. But such are the epicurean exigencies of health, and who am I to quibble before the demands of longevity?
Alas! The effects were less than satisfactory. Rather than quelling the nagging twinge in my elbow, the concoction embarked upon a full theatrical performance, featuring hallucinations and dizzy spells in both leading and supporting roles. The wallpaper pattern in my study took on the character of a marauding horde of psychedelic badgers engaged in an epic and seemingly endless Powwow dance.
The subtle scent of lavender suddenly seemed akin to a squadron of U.S. paratroopers – airborne and assaulting my olfactory senses with an apparent absence of Geneva Convention provisions in place. And let’s give a standing ovation to the tour de force personally presented by my toilet bowl, a seemingly innocuous porcelain latrine which, under the influence of Gwendoline's Elixir, transformed into the Grand Canyon echoing with a solo opera of objectionable digestive dialogue.
Now, was it all a disastrous debacle? I would fail in my duty as your bohemian bellwether if I did not mention the one, singular advantage – for the full, tumultuous expedition occasioned by Gwendoline's Whale-Sweet CBD Elixir, I was so preoccupied with my mental and gastrointestinal gymnastics, I did, in fact, stop noticing my elbow!
In conclusion, Gwendoline's Whale-Sweet CBD Elixir certainly does dial down pain, not by gentle submersion in soothing warmth, but with a psychedelic quiz show of distraction that can turn a quiet Sunday afternoon into a wild, whimsical whirlpool that Ken Kesey would eagerly consent to host.
The poet said that 'Parting is such sweet sorrow.' Bah! In this case, it's sweet relief. Farewell Gwendoline. You gave me quite the ride. I’ll take my chances with the articularis cubiti henceforth.