Allow me to relate a story on the J'inn theory of narcotics.
There I was. Lying in the hopsital bed. My appendix recently removed from my body because it didn't love me anymore. I hurt. Bad.
So I tell the nurse I hurt. She says, "We'll I can get you some tylyenol" I say . . . " TYLENYOL!! I AIN'T GOT A HEAACHE HERE!!! I want to be out cold, on Mars, LA LA LAND!!!"
Nurse: Sir, we are really trying to avoid using narcotics unless absolutely necessary.
J'inn: IT'S ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY!!!
Nurse: <sigh> Okay, but you realize that Demorol has to be injected into the buttock.
J'inn: <leans to one side, strips off sheet and lame hospital gown, points to naked arse> FILL HER UP!!
Nurse: Oh dear lord.
A few moments later I was happily dreaming about car accidents, drunken Exxon gas tanker drivers, and money. <sniff> I love those dreams. <sniff>
So yes. I'm a wimp when it comes to pain. Or I just like that warm glow. One or the other. I'm not sure. Well no, actually, I am sure. Wimpy. And proud of it.
DRUGS!! Hand them over!! <just watch Oxycotin, it's dangerous>