Sunday, August 8, 2010

Drugs are Bad

Cocaine Stories

Look, I'll be honest here: dude, it's a shitty drug. You're up for twenty minutes, then you come down hard. Luckily, I get to a point where I don't even want to touch the stuff, so I've never had anything like an addiction.

I haven't even seen the stuff in over two years, and probably did it on a frequency of once a month for two years.

Surprisingly, there are some funny stories/interesting stories about cocaine.

This surprises me, cause when you're on the drug you are far from funny. You mostly talk your ass off about bullshit you know nothing about, like the first time you get drunk.

"Dude, I totally know what's going on with The Wall man, you see...."

That type of shit.

Anyway, here we go:

My old Neighvors

The first time I met these neighvors was when the one comes over and she asks "Wanna go in on an 8 ball with me?" If you don't know, an 8 ball is a large amount of cocaine. This was in my drug years, but I declined as the whole thing freaked me out: random neighvor wanting to get socialist with drugs. Anyway, much later I would buy some from some random dude at her place from his backpack. There was always losers over there and this one time, I slept through it, my room mate (who stole from me and beat his dog) heard a commotion at 3 in the morning. It seems the one neighvor was riding piggyback on her boyfriend down the three flights of concrete steps we lived on and took a dive. My roommate went out there and she was unconscious and blood was all over the place. Her roommate refused to call an ambulance until every last bit of druggage was hidden in her apartment. What a cunt.

The Bad Luck Couple

I'm downtown and partying with some friends on a Wednesday night. I had the following day off cause I was on sick leave because I thought I was having a nervous breakdown over some woman. Yes, I'm a toolshed. Anyway, I go out to have a good time and end up meeting this couple from Idaho or Nebraska or some state no one remembers. Well, I realize they're both toolsheds after the first few sentences that come out of their mouth. But, all my friends leave the bar, I'm coked up and wanting to party more. So, my friends leave, having to work the next day, and I stay out with these toolsheds, because they say they know of a party or something. Why I thought a couple of hicks from out of town knew of a party, I don't know. Well, we stop along the way and do a few lines and I remember actually asking them "Are you guys bad luck?" I don't know how to explain it, but some people, you can just smell the bad luck coming off them. Sure enough, the girl, who I made sure only had one drink in her before she drove, fucking makes a dipshit left turn and a cop pulls us over. Much like the RV story, I'm moving a gram of coke from my wallet, to the inside of my pants, to my socks, to under a floor mat, to inside my sock again. The cop gives the girl a field sobriety test; she's not drunk. She is, however, only 18. This after they both assured me they were 22. Well, she gets busted for MIP and I'm left with her toolshed boyfriend and the car is impounded. I ditch the toolshed, take a cab home with absolutely no money on me. I instruct the cab driver to take me to my Mom's. I go in through the garage, grab her purse, find her credit cards and go back out to pay the cab driver. Of course he doesn't take the card, it's not working or something. I sally back and forth with three different cards before one works. It's not how it sounds, my Mom wouldn't mind (well she'd flip if she knew I was using coke). I told her that I used the card in the morning and may have paid her back.

The Most Drugs I've Ever had in my Body

It was my birthday and we had just gotten back from a bachelor party the weekend before. So, during work, Josh and I were seeing how many codeine pills (from Canada) we could pop. All day we'd email back and forth "3," "5," "7," and so on. I think we made it to nine each. After work, a bunch of us met at this bar for drinks. Well, we get it in our mind to pop more pills, and not only that, but get some MiniThins. These are pills for asthma, or something, that get you high. You can buy them at 7-11. So, we take those as well, and Josh and I decide to go into Seattle. On the way, we meet some drug dealer he knew, because we decided it would be a good idea to do some E. Well, this guy has a whole fucking grocery bag full of tablets. I'm serious. Think of the plastic bags they bag your shit in and think of one filled to the brim with tablets. Josh buys, like, 10. Over the course of the evening I would take three. Much later at some MTV party (all the people looked like extras from an MTV video) I would snort coke. Finally, around 7 in the morning, I called in sick and Josh and I decided that we'd go to the casino. We go back to my place so that I can change and everything hits me. I tell Josh I can't go and proceed to smoke weed and hallucinate about inch worms. Ugly.

Whistler Druggies

Out of all the places I've done coke, the weirdest was Whistler. I guess, because we get up there and my girlfriend at the time says that she knows some friends that want to meet up. Well, I don't know why, maybe the remote location, but I was shocked to find that they had coke. Not only that, but that they lived there and there was a whole coke network. I guess it shouldn't be shocking in a resort town, but it surprised me. There's really not much else to this story.

Well, there's a buttload more, but those are a few. Seriously, not a drug worth trying more than once.



No comments: