Trust Me, I’m Dr. Ozzy

Believe me: if that stuff really worked, there’d be lines around the block. My advice? Steer clear.

Dr. Ozzy’s Trivia Quiz: Sexy Beast

Find the answers—and tote up your score—here

1. If your partner has a headache before sex, what’s the best natural cure?

a) A game of hide-the-sausage

b) An early night and plenty of sleep

c) A neck massage

2. If a girl has a fling with a guy who says he has diphallia, what should she expect between the sheets?

a) Delayed ejaculation

b) A “micropenis”

c) Double the pleasure

3. When a 22-year-old student from California auctioned her virginity in 2009, how much did she get?

a) $50,000

b) A packet of fags and a box of Maltesers

c) $3.8 million

4. During the “Honen Matsuri” festival in Japan, what do 12 men carry through the streets?

a) A naked woman

b) A 96-inch wooden schlong

c) A ceremonial bowl of human sperm

5. A bloke in the Wodaabe tribe of Central Africa will find a wife by…

a) Putting on a skirt and taking part in a beauty contest

b) Arm-wrestling the potential bride’s father

c) Showing the size of his woody to the town’s elders

The Pharmacology Section 11

What They Don’t Print on the Label

I might know fuck all about molecules, equations, or the periodic table, but I do know something about chemicals—mainly ’cos I was off my nut on them for the best part of 40 years. Things have changed a lot since my junkie days, though. Back in the 1970s, for example, you needed a dodgy dealer and a wad of cash to get your hands on any mind-altering substances. These days, it’s all legal. As long as you’ve got a prescription, it’s considered perfectly acceptable to be stoned out of your mind 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. The problem is, people are happy to empty all these jars of pills down their neck without ever reading the labels— probably ’cos the warnings are all written by lawyers and say crazy things like, “Side-effects might include DEATH.” That’s where Dr. Ozzy comes in. If you want a straight answer about a medication, why not ask someone who’s taken everything?

Just bear in mind, though: before putting any drug in your body—even if it’s completely legit—you should always talk to someone first who didn’t used to be in Black Sabbath. As for all those people who are still using illegal drugs in one way or the other, all I can say is, “Been there, done that, and I honestly pray to God I never go back there again.” I mean, yeah, some of it was fun at the time. So is driving your car at 150 mph on the wrong side of the road. The trouble is, sooner of later, there’ll be an 18-wheeler coming round the corner in the opposite direction. And that won’t be any fun at all.

I: UPPERS

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

I work at a high-energy law firm and recently got myself a prescription for Adderall to boost my work performance. Thing is, I’m totally not ADD. Is this cheating at life?

Anonymous

It really depends how much you’re taking. If you’re necking a handful of the stuff a time, then you might as well go to work on a gram of fucking cocaine. And as time goes by, you’ll get a tolerance to it, and you’ll have to keep taking more and more, until you end up sitting there in your cubicle with your eyes bugging out like a fucking nutter and clutching at your chest every five seconds, ’cos you think you’re about to have a heart attack. That ain’t cheating at life—that’s fast-tracking yourself to an early death. Personally, I have a genuine case of ADD, but I give my Adderall to my assistant Tony, otherwise I’d be pouring the stuff in my coffee and sprinkling it on my cornflakes. The fact that you’re even writing to me about this suggests you know you’ve got a problem.

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

I suspect that my brother has started to take cocaine when he goes out clubbing at the weekend. I’m terribly worried about him. What are the risks involved?

Susan, West Yorks

You’re right to worry. When you start taking heavy-duty amounts of cocaine, this white gunk starts to trickle down the back of your throat, and you find yourself doing that phlegm-clearing thing all the time: like a sniff, but deeper and gunkier. And that puts a lot of stress on your epiglottis, or “clack,” as I’ve always called it. When I was doing a lot of coke in the 1970s, I was clearing away phlegm so often, I ended up tearing my clack in half. I was lying in bed at the time, and I just felt it flop down inside the back of my throat. Then it swelled up to the size of a golf ball and I had to go to the doc and explain myself. Luckily he had some pills for it—but I was so paranoid from the coke, I thought I’d never sing again. So as much fun as your brother might be having now, Susan, I’d advise him to stop while he’s ahead, ’cos a coke habit never ends well.

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

I recently went to Brazil and saw the most unbelievably graphic health warnings on the back of cigarette packets—dead babies, gangrenous feet, amputees, etc. Do you think these kind of “scare tactics” work, or are they so over-the-top, they do the opposite?

Don, Greenwich