For the last month or so, we have been getting non-stop spam comments about Darvocet. My initial thought was: “Hmmm, what kind of medicine would be made of the ground-up bones of Darva Conger? And how many pills a day will it take for me to marry a millionaire?”

It turns out that Darvocet is the brand name of Dextropropxyphene. Dextropro-what? Slow down there, doctor! We’re not all Rhodes Scholars like you. What’s this drug all about?:

Dextropropoxyphene, manufactured by Eli Lilly and Company, is an analgesic in the opioid category. It is used to treat mild pain and is additionally an anti-tussive and local anesthetic.

It turns out that Darvocet also helps with restless legs syndrome (RLS). What’s that? We’ll let Kramer explain:

[Elaine’s Office]Elaine sits behind her desk, in the big fancy office she gets standing in
for Peterman as president. Kramer enters.

KRAMER: Elaine. Uh, you got a moment?

ELAINE: Yeah, Kramer, come on in.

KRAMER: I, uh, need to speak to you about some lady problems.

Kramer sits in front of Elaine’s desk.

ELAINE: (unsure) Oh-kay.

KRAMER: (a little anxious) You know, after I have sex with Emily, uh, I
don’t want her in the bed any more.

ELAINE: Ah.

KRAMER: Yeah, because she’s throwing off my whole sleep. She’s got the jimmy
legs.

ELAINE: (confused) Jimmy legs?

Kramer raises one leg and judders it in the air, as illustration.

KRAMER: Jimmy leg.

ELAINE: (grasping the concept) Ohh.

KRAMER: So, uh, well, maybe I should just be honest with her, huh?

ELAINE: Tell her after sex, you just want her outta there?

KRAMER: Well, I’d say it nicely.

ELAINE: I don’t think so.

KRAMER: Well, you know, I really like this girl and I, you know, I think if
I could just work out this one thing…

ELAINE: (interrupting) Yeah. I gotta be honest with you Kramer. You might be
more than just a coupla tweaks away from a healthy relationship.

KRAMER: Well you’re not exactly zeroing in yourself, lady.

ELAINE: (pointing to the door, angry) Alright, get out.

Kramer starts to move, and thumps his knee on the underside of the desk. He
rises and begins to head for the door.

ELAINE: (impatient) Get out!
 

Well, that’s settled. Well, everything except for the issue of why the fuck someone would bother spamming websites with comment ads for something that is essentially Aspirin. Fuck computers. I’m going back to my electric typewriter. You can all come over to my house and read my posts over my shoulder.