drug addiction – Page 2

Lee Jonitis: Professional People Watcher (45/365)

Lee exited the Bathroom Post Haste, and once He was out He could hear Dizzy Shouting like a Lunatic. Lee looked around to see where Dizzy was when He saw that one of the Windows was open. While Lee was on a Sickening Safari of the Bathroom Dizzy had slipped out the Window onto the Rusty and Way Too Rickety Fire Escape. Lee poked His head out the Window to find Dizzy in the middle of a Heated Argument with a Disheveled looking Crackhead.

“I didn’t TOUCH Your fucking Shopping Cart Crackie! It was probably fucking STOLEN by one of Your Crackhead Cohorts You fucking Whack Job!” Hollered Dizzy at the Crackhead on the Street Below.

“BULLSHIT! I Know You fucked with My Cart Cracker, Your ALWAYS giving Me shit calling Me Names and Shit. You moved it because You wanna get rid of Me cuz You don’t like Me or My Associates living in Your Neighborhood!” screamed the Crackhead back at Dizzy who was preoccupied searching for something to Throw at Him.

“You don’t live ANYWHERE You Loiter around a CRACKHOUSE and Lurk creeping through the Streets like filthy fucking Paracites. Who the fuck do You think You are talking all this shit to Me you fucking Dope Addicted Asshole!” Dizzy Yelled back still looking for a Projectile to Launch at the stubborn Crackhead.

“GIVE ME MY CART! YOU OWE ME A CART! GET MY CART NOW YOU HONKEY MOTHERFUCKER!!” Demanded the Crackhead at the Top of His Shot Out Lungs

“FUCK OFF before I call the POLICE and You can Cop Crack in Cell Block 6 You Street Trash Crack Smoking cocksucker!” declared Dizzy Triumphantly as He Threw and Empty Pint of Wild Turkey 101 directly at the Angry Crackheads Face.

The Bottle flew flawlessly through the Air like a motherfucking Missile and hit the Crackhead right across the bridge of His nose. The Bottle exploded in a Shower of Glass Shards while simultaneously Breaking the Crackheads Nose. A Fountain of Blood came Gushing out of the Crackheads Nose like Niagara fucking Falls as He Collapsed to His knees. Once the Crackheads knees hit the Asphalt He instantly Slumped forward and started Wailing like a Wounded Animal. His blood collected in a growing Pool in front of Him as He sat in the middle of the street Brow Beaten and Defeated.

“Jesus Crack Smoking Christ,” exclaimed Dizzy reentered the Apartment, “Proof theres NEVER a Cop around when You need One. Thats why at the END of every Action Movie the Cops always come Charging in like the fucking Calvary AFTER THE FUCKING FACT. Mind You if I dared to take a fucking piss in an Alleyway I’d get Arrested in a fucking Heart Beat, but these Crack Smoking Sons of Bitches are allowed to Wonder wherever They want Without Issue.”

“Thats the Hypocrisy of the Police. Who exactly do They Protect? Who the fuck do They Serve? The fucking Government thats Who the Authoritarian Assholes.” replied Lee as He felt the same fucking way about it as Dizzy did.

“Well now that the Crackhead and the Case of the Missing Cart is Complete what I want to know is what the hell are We gonna do for the rest of the Day.” announced Dizzy rather Impatiently.

“The Best thing to do is consider Our Options I suppose.” answered Lee Honestly as He surveyed the Stalagmites of Dust hanging from Dizzy’s ceiling which Lee thought looked like wads of Ghost Cum to Him.

Stay Tuned for the Next Invigorating Installment of………

LEE JONITIS: PROFESSIONAL PEOPLE WATCHER 46/365

(This Sunday We return to Our usual Lee Jonitis Posts)

Thanks for Reading,

By Les Sober

Some Drug War Dinosaurs WON’T DIE.

Some Lingering Dinosaurs Left Over from the Failed War on Drugs refuse to Face the Fact They’re facing Extinction. The War on Drugs has been a Colossal waste of Time, Money, Man Power, Resources, and Ended in Horrific Failure. The Cliche goes “Those Who Don’t Learn from History are Doomed to Repeat it” and That Cliche definitely applies to America. You think after the Spectacular Shit Show that was Prohibition The American Government would have learned the Simple Lesson of PEOPLE WILL CONTINUE TO DO THINGS THEY WANT TO DO EVEN IF THEY ARE ILLEGAL.

Prohibition surrendered to Defeat in 1933, but the Government had a Serious Public Relations Disaster because Prohibition Failed. Not only did Prohibition Fail in its Mission to Stop Americans from Drinking it also gave Rise to Organized Crime. Along with the Rise of Organized Crime came Countless Murders and Assassinations as Bootleggers fought for Territory and Customers A Like.

So The Governmental Law Agencies had to find a New Public Enemy Number One to Save Face from Prohibitions Failure, and Distract the Public from the Monumental Failure that Prohibition turned out to be. Motivated by Desperation, Humiliation, and Racism The Federal Law Agencies Demonized Marijuana due to the Fact Latinos (Primarily Mexicans) were the Key demographic of Marijuana Smokers along with Jazz Musicians (aka African Americans) at the Time. And Thus REEFER MADNESS WAS BORN.

Not only was REEFER MADNESS a Campaign of Pure Propaganda and Lies focusing Heavily on the Threat that Pot Smoking Minorities posed to the White Man’s way of Life. Marijuana They said would Not Only Lead to Instant Addiction, Insanity, Crime, and Death to those Who Used it, and that Directly put America’s (White) Youth, as well as (White) Women in Harms Way. Thus the Evils of Alcohol were turned into the Evils of Marijuana.

Then eventually Marijuana was Illegal on the Federal Level and the Raging Fire of Reefer Madness subsided to a Pile of Smoldering Embers after Marijuana was made Illegal. That was until Ronald Regan the D-List Actor turned D-List Politician took office as the President of the United States in 1980. Regan was the one Who Declared the War on Drugs and the First Drug His New Drug War Targeted was Marijuana. The Flames of Reefer Madness jumped back to Life to become a Full on Bonfire of Misinformation, Propaganda, and Blatant Lies perpetuated by The combination of Government and Law Enforcement Agencies.

Now in 2019 with 2/3 of the 50 States that comprise America have Legal Medical or Recreational Marijuana (though it is still bastardized and Illegal on the Federal Level) gave way to Exposing all the Propaganda and Lies that The Government had been Force Feeding the American Public starting in 1933 and then Resurrected with Regan’s War on Drugs. It also had allowed for the Positive Effects of Marijuana have come to Light through New Unrestricted Scientific Studies. With all this You’d think the Booze Vs. Buds argument would have been rendered Moot, but Alas No. There still some Old School Drug War Dinosaurs wondering the Land desperately trying to Fan the Flames of the Anti-Marijuana Movement.

For All Those Dinosaurs and the Misinformed, or Naysayers here’s just a Short List of Facts on the Subject.

BOOZE:

According to the 2013 YRBS, the most COMMONLY ABUSED DRUG among Teenagers is ALCHOL. Alcohol is in Fact a Drug as the American Medical Association defines a Drug as “Any and All Mind or Mood Altering Substance”. In the Past 30 Days Alone 35% of High Schoolers admired They Drank Alcohol, 21% took part in BINGE Drinking, 10% Drove Drunk, and 22% said They had gotten in a Car with a Driver who had also been Drinking.

A LARGE Proportion of Interpersonal VIOLENCE is related to Alcohol. 80% of Murders, Aggravated Assaults, Domestic Violence, and Rapes are related to Alcohol Consumption.

Alcohol Offenses constitute the LARGEST Single Arrest Category which includes Public Drunkenness, Public Urination, Indecent Exposure, Disorderly Conduct, Vagrancy Charges, and Drunk Driving.

A LARGE proportion of Automobile FATALITIES are Related to Alcohol Use. in 2013, 10,076 (31%) of Fatal Car Accidents were Alcohol Related. The National Highway TrafficSafety Administration cites Alcohol as the MOST Pervasive SINGLE FACTOR found in Fatal Highway Accidents.

Alcohol is DANGEROUS TO YOUR HEALTH. Alcohol leads to Alcoholism, Diabetes, Heart Problems, Kidney Issues, and Wet Brain just to Name a Few. Alcohol Kills approximately 88,000 People Per Year, which is MORE than ANY OTHER DRUG besides Nicotine which Kills 480,000 People a Year. 4,300 of the 88,000 Fatalities are due to Underage Drinking.

People who Drink are more likely to Engage in Sexual Activity, have Unprotected Sex, Have Sex with a complete Stranger (The preverbal One Night Stand/Hook Up), or be the Victim OR Perpetrator of a Sexual Assault (aka Rape.)

MARIJUANA:

Today there are OVER 2 MILLION Americans incarcerated in the Prison System making America’s Prison Population the LARGEST IN THE ENTIRE WORLD. Over 350,000 of the 2 Million Inmates are Serving Time for Drug Offenses. It has been proven that sending Drug Offenders to Rehab is FAR More Beneficial than Imprisonment since the Crime is a Symptom of the Sickness of Addiction. Prisons are basically just Collages for Convicts where Low Level Offenders can Learn how to be Major Criminals with Tutorials in Drug Dealing, Car Jacking, Identity Theft, Gang Banging, Murder, Rape, and that’s just for Starters.

10 States still have SEVERE collateral Sanctions for Marijuana Offenders. Florida has the MOST SEVERE Sanctions in regards to Illegal Marijuana Offenders (Florida Legalized Medical Marijuana in 2017). Possible Sanctions include a Barred on Educational Aid, Barred from being a Foster Parent, Denial of Housing Assistance, Suspension of Driver’s License, Barred from Voting, Barred from Serving on a Jury, Lost Job Opportunities in the Medical Field, and Barred from Possessing a Fire Arm.

Over the past 4 Decades, the Federal and State Governments have spent a WHOPPING 1 TRILLION DOLLARS on the War on Drugs. Imagine what that money could have been used for like Repairing Infrastructure, Education, Healthcare, Poverty, Cancer Research Etc.

In 2015, 61% of American Voters believed Marijuana should be Legalized on the Federal Level. in 2019 the Number of American Voters believe Marijuana should be Legalized.

72% of American Voters Believe Marijuan should be Decriminalized, and there should be a FINE NOT TIME for Marijuana Possession.

I encourage all Our Reader’s to Properly Educate Themselves using Only Facts and Decide for Themselves where They Stand on the Alcohol Vs. Marijuana Argument/Debate. QUESTION EVERYTHING, KEEP AN OPEN MIND, AND THINK FOR YOURSELF.

Thanks for Reading,

By Les Sober

We’re The Worst Superhero’s of All Time

My Wife and I had planned a Road Trip to get Out of Town for a While and to take a break from Life’s endless Trial, Tribulations, and General Horseshit. We board Our 4 Large Rottweilers at a Boarding Facility a Couple of Towns Over from Our little Neck of the Woods. We Board them since 4 Rottweilers on the Road in a fucking Hatchback would be an Insane Undertaking.

We loaded Up the Dogs and hit the Road headed to a Town a few over from us. It was a pleasantly sunny Day but Hot as a Motherfucker with a Humidity Index of 90%. My Wife was Driving and I saw mindlessly staring out the Window checking out the Scenery as We drove along to Our Destination.

Far down the Road almost almost out of Sight a Black SUV looking Vehicle that had pulled up in front of one of the Many Abandoned Buildings that Dot the Countryside, and all of a Sudden the Vehicle took off like a Bat Ot of Hell with its ass on Fire. The Vehicle quickly disappeared out of Sight and We continued Our uneventful Drive.

The Next thing I saw was truly one of those things that makes You think to Yourself What The Fuck s That About. As I was blankly staring at the Thick Woods that lined the side of the Road I saw a Man with a Shaved Head, Shirtless, with a Homeless Floridian Panhandler’s Tan, and carrying what appeared to be a Military Type Duffle Bad Deal slung over His Shoulder. He stuck out like the Preverbal sore fucking Thumb since We were in a long and virtually uninhabited stretch of Road with a Few scattered Houses spaced Out along it.

The weirdest fucking thing was this Guy was Walking Out of the Woods towards the Road. This normally wouldn’t concern Me in the Least as I have said We live in the Boonies so Seeing a Hunter decked out in Head to Toe Camo standing on the Side of the Road or walking out of the Woods is just Typical around here. This Guy wasn’t a Hunter in fact for all intensive purposes He looked like a fucking Homeless Junkie.

Before I could even make comment to My Wife about the Strange Junkie Emerging from the Woods We came around a Blind Curve, and there was the Black SUV Vehicle that had come to a COMPLETE dead Stop as if it was in a Parking Spot at some fucking Walmart. Since it was a Blind fucking curve there was 20 feet between Our car goin 50 miles an Hour or so (The Speed limit is 55 on that road, but as You can imagine People drive even Faster because they can’t seem to kill themselves fast enough.) and the Unknown Vehicle that was again at a DEAD STOP. I had just enough time to say My Wife’s Name and then all We could do is Prepare for Impact.

Our Lives didn’t flash before Our eyes, It wasn’t like being in a fucking Movie, and Nothing appeared to go into Slow Motion. I a split NANO SECOND I saw the Vehicle and thought Holy fucking Shit Their not Moving, and then just simply the word Fuck then We collided with the Rear End of the Vehicle in Question. We hit so fucking Hard not only did BOTH Air Bags Deploy they fucking Exploded filling the Car with a think Cloud of Chemical Dust that smelled like Burning Plastic. The Hood of the Car was crumpled all the way back to the base of the Shattered Windshield like a Crinkle Cut Fry.

The Dogs thank fucking God weren’t Hurt as They slammed against Each other and collapsed in a Heap all accept for Mama Dog who had been sitting between the Front seats so She could see out the Windshield. Mama Dog came flying forward between the Seats Head First towards the Windshield, and I stuck My Arm Out like a Toll Gate catching Her before She smacked into the Windshield or the Dash Board. Our Ears were ringing, We were uncontrollably shaking a good Bit, and Spent the first couple of Minutes trying to figure Out if We were in fact Dead. Luckily We were alive and Not seriously Hurt.

My Wife excited the Vehicle by Squeezing Herself out the Car door that at this point barely Opened enough for Her to do so. I checked on the Dogs who were handling the Accident far better it appeared than We Humans. I then had to Crawl out of the Car Window since My Door was so jacked the fuck up it Couldn’t Open not even a Crack. The Other driver walked Over to Us as I slid out of the Car Window, and looked as in Shock as We did as Everyone’s Adrenaline was Flowing like the fucking Mississippi River after a Major Down Pour. The Entire Engine lay Exposed to the Sun tilted to the Left, Anti Freeze along with Oil and Radiator Water were Draining Out Every fucking where. There was Shrapnel consisting of the Front Bumper, Head Lights, and Various Extraneous Debris splayed out across the Asphalt.

We established No One was seriously Hurt and as We stood there in Shock to the Point No One could Figure Out what to do Next. We finally Mentally collected Ourselves enough to think some what strait and knew We had to call the Police and then Our Insurance Company immediately. Before We could call the Cops a Gnarly Fire Fighter Rescue Pick Up Truck pulled up Behind Our Vehicle. The Truck was fucking Huge even by Truck standards and had Flashing Lights on Top with the Station Number in the Middle of a Badge Insignia (1211 by the way). The Driver was a rather Big Fellow decked out in Navy Blue Cargo Pants, Shit Kicker Boots, Navy T-shirt with The Fire Rescuer’s Emblem on it, and a Navy hat also sporting the Fire Rescue Logo.

The Fire Rescue Fellow showed up so Fast like I said We hadn’t even dialed the Police as We all were still Badly Shaken Up by what had just occurred. It turned Out there was another Young Man not looking a Day over 22 with the Fire Rescue Fellow who jumped out, threw on a Florescent Yellow Vest like the Road Construction Crews wear, and crossed to the Other side of the Road to Direct Traffic as the Vehicle We Hit was still parked in the road blocking the Entire Lane.

The Next to Show was the Ambulance and the EMTS who We informed were not needed at this Time as No One was Seriously Hurt nor Requesting Medical Attention. I’d like to pause here for a brief second. I fully fucking Believe there should be a 24 Hour Medical Consultation Law that Allows Victims of Car Accidents a FULL 24 Hours to Seek Treatment POST Accident. This is due to the Fact that with all the fucking Adrenaline and Sheer Shock of it All People aren’t aware of Injuries at the exact Time o the Crash. I mean unless Your Unconscious, Profusely Bleeding, have a Broken Limb, or are Trapped in the Wreck People always Dismiss the Paramedics. Then later when the Adrenaline and its wonderful knifing effects wear the hell off You start to become aware of all the Sore Muscles, Bruises, Scratches, and Cuts that You incurred in the Accident.

Now Back to Our Story.

Its at this Point The Story takes an Unforeseen Twist when the Fire Rescue Fellow asks My Wife and I if We saw the Bald Junkie Dude run into the Woods with something and then Run back out again. We told the Fire Rescue Fellow What We had seen and then told Him that after Impact We were to fucked in the Head to Notice what the fuck The Junkie did or didn’t do. I then informed the Fire Rescue Fellow of what I had seen before the collision. The Fire Rescue Fellow informed us the reason He had made it onto the Scene so Fast was the Next Car to come down the Road after Our accident was in fact His Brother who called Him Directly to report the Crash and let His Brother Know some Guy had run into the Woods to ditch Who Knows What. The Fire Rescue Fellow then told Us He would remain at the Crash Site because and I quote “Theres something Not right about those Guys.” referring to the Occupants of the Other Car.

The Other Driver walked up and instantly the Fire Rescue Fellow asked Her straight up what was it that the Guy hid in the Woods. She of course says She has No fucking Clue who He is or That She was picking Him Up. She went on to say the Other Woman in the Car who looked like Your Stereotypical Meth Addict was Her Best Friend who She hadn’t seen in 6 months (More than likely because the bitch was doing a 6 month bit in County Jail), and the Guy was Her Boyfriends who again She had No Clue about. This is a Classic Drug Addict explanation as its full of fucking Holes. The Fire Rescue Fellow tells the Woman The Police are in Route, and He’ll have Them bring a K-9 Unit out if Necessary. She stuck to Her story and things progressed.

A Actual Fire Truck showed Up, but since there was No Fire (Thank fucking God) there was No Need for Them so They left for Somewhere They were in fact Needed. As The Fire Truck was pulling away the Local Sheriff Patrol Cars pulled Up. The Sheriffs made Sure We were indeed Ok and Prceeded to Help Direct the increasing amount of Traffic that was backing Up as The Sheriffs Closed BOTH Lanes simultaneously. The Sheriffs also made sure No One tried to Leave the Scene of the accident, and to Insure there was No Physical Confrontation between those involved in the Accident.

I’m not gonna lie as I stood there watching things unfold I had to fight the Impulse to Run Over to the Other Vehicle (which was a Jeep it turned out not an SUV), and Beat the Holy fucking shit Out of the Junkie Dude since it was essentially His fault. If His filthy Drug Addled ass was being picked up on the side of the fucking Road by His Drug Addict supposed Girlfriend and the Other Driver NON of this Would have Happened.

By Now the Few scattered People living out that way had made Their way from Their Houses near by to the Accident Site, and We the Coolest Bunch of People they were the kind of People that restore Ones Lost Faith in Humanity that’s for sure. Everyone of Them asked if We were Ok, if We needed Anything, and Brought Not Just Us but Our Dogs Cold Bottles of Water. No joking here but These Good Samaritans were as concerned for Our Dog’s Welfare as much as Ours which I found to be utterly fucking Awesome.

My Wife at this Point was on the Phone reporting the Accident to Our insurance Company as I tended to the Dogs making sure They had Water and didn’t try and Jump out of the Car during all the commotion. I called My Mother who is My only relative around these parts and asked Her to come over and Pick Up the Poor Dogs since it was Hot and Humid as Hell. The Last fucking thing We needed was for a Dog to suffer a fucking Heat Stroke from baking in the Car now turned Oven. Thankfully She was at Home and ready to lend a Helping Hand however it was needed. She arrived about 23 minutes later and My Wife and I loaded Up the Four Dogs into Her Air Conditioned Car.

It was also at this point the Sheriffs made sure Everyone Stood Roadside as the Woods were Now Off Limits to Anyone Who wasn’t Law Enforcement. The Highway Patrol was called in to Deal with the Actual Accident and would be arriving shortly. Also I nice Older Man who Lived about 150 feet from the Accident Site told My Mother She could park in His Drive Way which was Shady and would keep Her out of The Polices Way. I walked down to His Driveway and He came out of His Workshop (Turns Out He’s a Welder among other things) with a Big Bowl of Fresh Cold Water for Our Dogs.

Time Passed as the Three Ring Circus of an Accident was in full Swing, and I couldn’t take the Dogs Home because the Highway Patrol would want My Account of the Accident. So I stood in this Nice Old Guy’s Front Year watching the Fiasco for a While. Eventually the Fire Rescue Fellow walked over to Me and Informed Me that The Deputy’s (Yet more Law Enforcement) had arrived and were currently in the Process of Arresting the Meth Head Girlfriend Passenger in the Jeep We hit because She had NOT One, BUT SEVERAL ACTIVE WARRANTS OUT FOR HER ARREST. So She was Off to Jail. I again won’t lie this Delighted Me because it was Her Scummy Junkie Boyfriend they were Picking Up.

Apparently I was told that Each Law Enforcement Agency had its Own Particular Role in this Situation. As I said earlier The Sheriff was there for the Initial Assessment and to Keep the Peace. The Highway Patrol was there sole for the Accident, and the Deputies were there to Arrest The Junkie’s Meth Mouthed Girlfriend so there were a lot of motherfuckers with Badges.

Another Development had occurred while My Wife was still Maning the Phones like a fucking Champ, and I was keeping My Mother and Dogs company while chatting with the Nice Older Man and His Adult Daughter. It just so happened there was a Petty Thief that had been operating in their Area Breaking into Vacation Houses, Boat Houses, Garages, Tool Sheds, Workshops, and Vehicles to Steal whatever They could. THIS was the reason for the Fire Rescue Fellows Diligence, and the subsequent interest of the Various Police Departments in the Bald Junkie fuck I had seen walking Out of the Woods before the Accident.

The Police had been actively searching the Woods and had located several Stashes of Peoples Personal Property that the Bald Son of a Bitch had STOLEN and then since obviously He didn’t have a Car Hid in the Woods to swing back and pick up at a Later Date. Of course the Entire Time the Two Druggie Scumbags are Lying every which way to avoid the Increasingly good Possibility They BOTH would End up in Jail by the End of it all. With His Meth Loving Girlfriend was taken into Custody and He was put in Handcuffs He shut right the fuck up. And Yes in the End the Bald Bastard turned out in a Scooby Doo Twist to be the Piece of Shit Revolting Robber so He went to Jail just like His Meth Hooker Looking Girlfriend. As it turned out The Last Person this Scumfucks Junkie Robbed was as it turned out the Nice Older Man’s Place as His Daughter had conferred with the Cops, and Identified several items that belonged to Her Father.

The Highway Patrol finished up all the bullshit Paper work and Sited the Driver of the Jeep with a Ticket and Court Summons for making an “Illegal Stop”, returned My Wife and My Drivers Licenses, and told Us That We were in No Way required to show up on the Jeep Drivers Court Date, BUT if We did it would Help Them Nail Her to the fucking Wall. So Yes We are going I think it will be nice to be in Court and NOT being the Defendant and of Course FUCK HER THE BATSHIT BITCH. Fuck Up My Plans and I’ll Fuck Up Your LIFE.

Then My Wife got a Ride Home with the Tow Truck Driver who had showed up while We were with the Highway Patrol. I rejoined My Mother in Her car and Took the Dogs on Home at Last. The SOLE thing that gave this Shit Cloud a Silver Lining was when the Deputy Officer made a point of telling Us that Not to take it the Wrong Way, But as Unfortunate as Our Accident Was and Giving that No One was Seriously Hurt Had in Fact “Solved a lot of Problems for Us.”

(1) (2)

SO there You have it My Wife and I are in fact Superhero’s. Superhero’s without ANY Super Powers or Crime Fighting Weapons (like Batman). No We just Drive Around and Stop Crime by Crashing into Criminals. Then We simply Wait for the Cops to Come and Arrest Them. That would effectively make Us the WORST SUPERHEROES OF ALL TIME.

Thanks for Reading,

By Les Sober (3)

Lee Jonitis: Professional People Watcher (40/365)

All Apologies for the 2 Day Delay. I have No Excuse I simply Forgot Sunday, and Yesterday I got Side Tracked by a Side Project. Again All Apologies.

As Lee’s Mind started to meld with the Madness Plastered Across the Walls. He was becoming Cerebrally Submerged within the Staggering Amount of Emotion it was Overwhelming to think about. And all the Stories, Declarations, Statements, Proclamations, Jokes, and Jest that were being Played Out in this Grotesque Public Forum.

Lee began to try and Imagine Each and Every Mind Set behind Each and Every Artist and Vandal alike. Of all the things that People could have written on the Lobby Walls Why did These People feel compelled to Write what They Did. Was it a Fare Representation of Who They really are, or were these just Temporary Outbursts to Vent the Frustration of Toiling Day after Day as these People Trudged through Their Lives?! Did They ever wonder if Anyone Read it? Did They Ever Stop to think if the Intended Party/Person it was Directed at even Actually Saw it?

Again was this just all simply Lashing Out to Somehow feel Vindicated to feel as if Someone would have to Listen to Them for Once? Did Any of these People ever find Themselves eating Lunch one Day and contemplating if the The Wall had been Repainted thus whipping Their Words from Public Record. Was that the Secret was it knowing that what They wrote wouldn’t stand the test of Time that They felt free to express Themselves as They did?!

Then Dizzy grabbed Lee’s Arm snapping Him back into the Grim Reality that was the Lobby. The pair started Their Ascent up the insanely Narrow Stair Case that reminded Lee of a fucking Submarine or Battleship scenario. It was so Narrow that if Someone was coming in the Opposite directing You’d have to turn sideways, and hug up against the No doubt Filthy wall to let Them squeeze past.

The virtual lack of any sort of real lighting gave the impression You might have inadvertently Stumbled into a Haunted House Attraction at The County Fair. Lee found it all to be Disorienting, and a bit Claustrophobic so After walking up the First couple of Flights He was Praying the Next Apartment They came to would be Dizzy’s.

“One More Flight and We’ll be there,” said Dizzy a bit Winded and Wanting a Cigarette, “Oh fucking really?! REALLY? What The HELL! After all the indiscretions I have had to Suffer Today I come Home to This?! Who wants to deal with fucking Junkies and Their Junkie Bullshit No One thats Who!’

Lee had to Strain to see around Dizzy for a view of what it Exactly it was that was causing Dizzy this Sudden Distress. There Precariously Peached at the Top of the last Flight of Stairs Lee would have to Endure was what Lee assumed was the Junkie Dizzy was set off by.

The Junkie was Slumped so Far Forward it looked like He was trying to suck His own dick right there on the Stirs. His Long Dark Brown Hair was so Matted that it has Started to Naturally form Dreadlocks which smelled like the Dumpster Water (the collection of Various Fluids leaking from Trash Bags that sink to the Bottom of a Dumpster and Stagnate Purifying until its Emptied). He was wearing a Winter Jacket that Lee thought looked like a Trench Coat for a Cold Weather Climate as He assumed it was made out of Wool or perhaps Tweed. Surprisingly enough the Junkie was Barefoot and His feet were Black from the Dirt and Grime of the World Outside. That combined with the Fact the Junkies Toe Nails were Thick, Yellowed, and Over grown made His feet look like those of a Werewolf.

Tune In Next Week For The Next Idiosyncratic Installment of………

LEE JONITIS: PROFESSIONAL PEOPLE WATCHER (41/365)

Thanks for Reading,

By Les Sober

Everything is Coming up R̶o̶s̶e̶s̶ Crack Roses

Once upon a time, I used to be that guy that would check the internet for random holidays and annoy the shit out of people celebrating them.

National Cupcake Day? Sounds good to me.

National Piss Off Your Co-Worker Day? Why limit that to one day? I did this by breathing every single day. I once got poked in the eye by a female co-worker for the simple reason of me doing my job. Got a nifty pair of goggles by that is another tale.

National Prostitutes Day- I used to celebrate this but not anymore. I don’t think I’m still for sale but I sure as hell am not crusty enough to be buying yet.

So this week I am going to proclaim National Crack Cocaine Week. I am not really sure why it should be this week. I mean Bobby Brown was born in February and Whitney Houston was born in August. The crack mayor from the 1990s Marion Barry was born in March.

So why Crack Week? Why should it be right now? All of my actions this week have led me to crack. I have not personally smoked crack in more than a decade, nor do I have any burning desire to do so. Yet if I were pulled over earlier this week by a cop I would have quite a bit of difficulty explaining myself. My truth is their fiction.

It all started so innocently. Boy meets boy. Boys get weed. Boys smoke a bong hit. Boy gets a bit too high. Boy asks what is in this. Boy gets told freebase. Boy is older than the internet so he has no clue. Innocence gone.

Boy hits a car going 2 miles per hour. Lady in other car has a hissy fit. Cops come. Boy bats his eyes and pleads innocence. Cop tells boy (me) to go fuck my friend. I say no he’s not into me. Cop says your friend wants it real bad. Friend doesn’t believe me. Cop then flicks his tongue in and out at us in a manner that reminded me of Gene Simmons. Friend believes me.

So that is my history. That is my first time. I know some of you will say freebase is not crack to which I say YOU ARE A CRACKHEAD.

Back to the present……

I had a rather unfortunate event with my glass bong last weekend. I yanked it from underneath my kitchen cabinet directly upward and destruction was upon me.

Then at the same time I somehow threw out the only screen I had for it into the garbage. I checked my two faucets. They were barren of screens. So now logic would dictate I just buy a screen with the bong but no. I just bought a bong by itself.

Then I was just down to some shake left in my bag o’ weed. So instead of going back to where I bought the bong I thought oh I should just buy some Chore Boy. In my head I remember it as not having so many holes in it. So I threw my shake in there with the Chore. It utterly failed. I did have a flashback to smoking crack, not an urge per-say, just well Chore Boy does have a unique taste on its own.

So now I’m stuck with this.

At least if a random crackhead comes out of the woods and somehow gets into my apartment they will have something useful to steal. I’m seriously considering sticking it in a bowl with 1000 pennies so they’d have another amusement. Copper for the win BABY!!!

So then this new bong had a stem I did not like. (I did not break the old stem). It was too long and thin. So I decided to execute it in my sink. I thought it would break into a million pieces but instead I ended up with this. The STEMASAURUS!!!

By SpaceDog

The Many Faced Spacedog

Everyday when I wake up and look at myself in the mirror, I’m not really sure who I am viewing. Sure it is me but I’ve lived so many distinct lives with no connection to one another it is absurd.

Like everyone else I started off innocent. Then I got a dose of that good old Catholic guilt. Hated the parents from ten years old because of this. Why would they lie to me about something so important?

It finally came to a head when I had to smash out multiple windows in their home. I was indeed very serious about not attending church.

Around the same time I came to terms with being a homosexual. Not one of those cheesy Hollywood gay teen portrayals. I knew what I wanted and usually got it. Sure I pulled a bit of a Hard Candy situation and threatened an older man into sleeping with me or else, but what else would you expect? At my best I was Sebastian from Cruel Intentions plus a bit of Regina George (Mean Girls). I was terrifying.

I faked mental illness for many years to the point that I have fooled nearly everyone to this day. Sure I had a few suicide attempts, most illegitimate barring one. These were all caused by medication which was supposed to help. I will get to this in another blog.

I tried my hardest to be an extrovert but discovered I did not relate to very many others. I tried drug dealing, prostitution, and even attempted being a mail order bride. Sadly the guilt never let me be a bride even though I had many offers.

Then a foot injury came. 20 years ago. It led to opiate abuse and then eventually heroin abuse because I was abadoned by friends who were only there when I had a vehicle. The only one left just happened to be a heroin addict and down the rabbit hole I went.

Sometimes I feel like the original Oxycontin victim because I lived the story you hear all too often in today’s news. It was a dark and solitary several years because frankly I did not want to be around other users. It was a gross habit.

Then there were some lost years. I do not remember much of them. I drank heavily at first. This led to 80 pounds of weight gain in a year. It came off almost as rapidly. I was obsessed with someone who I clearly thought was obsessed with me. This was not real as that person completely bought into the lies about mental illness big pharma wants us to believe.

As I struggled with substances I also struggled with who I was. Most people I’ve met seem to have some issue with me because I’m straight acting. It’s not an act though it’s just me. I love sports, divas, queens, bros, most forms of tv (except true crime and cop shows), all music (just not the bs playing in 90% of gay clubs) and everything in between. Still the queens think I’m too masculine and the gay bros say I’m too fem. Apparently being naturally well rounded is not a quality others tend to believe in.

So the point to all this is that while I am all of the things I’ve ever been I am also none of them. Sure I’ve made countless mistakes along the way. I have no regrets. Yes, I could have handled things better with the handful of my friends who now live in graveyards. Regrets though never. I just had to stay in the darkness a bit longer before I knew where he the dark ended and the light began.

The only thing that truly matters though is today and tomorrow. I finally have a clear vision of what it is I want. The veil has been lifted for me.

What do I want you ask? It is a secret. Everyone is a naysayer. I’ve shared far too many secrets with all the wrong people. There is way too much ambition within me and I’d love to finally be able to use it.

But it’s all just for today. That’s the only slogan I have ever found useful in a 12 step program. Some days I go old and sit around and do nothing watching game shows like I’m 90. Other days I challenge myself to 2 hours at the gym or 20,000 steps. Some days I go young and binge teen dramas. I really don’t care what you think. I do me. You do you.

Still while I know who I will be tomorrow beyond that remains a mystery. All the vexations of my spirit have been cast away in some long forgotten martini glass. Something massive is growing inside my soul. I hope it’s love and not some tumor. Fuck tumors.

You aren’t who you were. You are who you dream. I am living the dream. I hope you do one day too.

by Spacedog

Savior

I hate picking categories for my blogs. Sometimes I sit here for like ten minutes and mull. I like sitting and mulling over things. Then I usually just drift away, drift away, drift away………

I’ve been wanting to write this for a few days. I think it might be important. There are just so many angles and I’m seeing things in my head like a great big kaleidoscope lately and Resces Peanut Butter Cups saved me. Ramble done. Substance begin.

Saving

I met a woman
She had a mouth like yours
She knew your life
She knew your devils and your deeds
And she said,
‘Go to him, stay with him if you can
But be prepared to bleed’

-Joni Mitchell

When first heard these lyrics, it resonated with something deep down within me. I had a dream. Well a daydream of sorts. I was 14 years old. It was on my parents bed. I saw that man. I saw the man I was supposed to save. The features in his face were blurred. Then I knew. Then I knew.

The search was short. I thought I found that which had been conjured to me. This was only a faux pearl. This was something like heartache but I had no heart. No one was saved. I was left a wreckage. Nothing was broken. Nothing has no name.

I went off further into the abyss we call humanity. I saw glimpses of greatness. I saw far more horrors. I’ve seen many things that do not bear repeating. For their lack of importance, for their lack of any kind of depth. Only rings around a tree. Only rings around a giant redwood smothered around her kindren deep within the darkest forrest.

Then one day someone introduced a novel concept to me. That of saving myself. So I did. I had just seen Trainspotting again recently. So I left the life I knew, the people I knew stuck at a random motel. I thought I had stolen their drugs but in actuality I stole their Marlboro miles. I did not fret. I did not care. I never looked back. That life was gone.

Then I found something. I found myself. He was hiding where the willows never weep. On a tall cumulus cloud nestled in between the puffs.

When I was sitting home one night it occured. I had no idea what was happening. There was no immediate warmth or glow or feeling of glee or joy. I met the person I was supposed to save. There’s really no way of knowing you are going to save something until the process is already underway. It sweeps you up one night and then you wake up the next day with a hangover. You wonder what just occured. I thought this was love. This was nothing of the sort.

So I saved him.

Literally.

His life.

Not we had a little pep talk and he went out and threw three touchdown passes and the whole town of rednecks went into a frenzy.

Not I sprinkled my fairy dust all through the village and everyone thought he was a prince.

Not he was sad. We got drunk. We fucked. He felt acceptance but walked with a limp.

No. Physically preventing him from leaving this world. Tackling him with the noose in his hand.

It happened again. This time I offered him death. I offered him a chance to overdose on my bed. He chose not. Saved again.

Aftermath

I do not regret the choices I have made.

I stand by each and every one of them as my own.

Sometimes I wonder whether or not I saved the person I was supposed to save. It’s not really what I would call a regret. Just more mulling inside my own head.

There are times that make my decision feel right. There are times that make it cold and barren and desolate. An Antarctic tundra trapped by numbness between the webbing of my feet.

I do not search for what is to be saved.

I do not seek that which lies within.

I venture forth the crumbling highway.

I call for nothing yet something always begins.

By SpaceDog

The Second Time Isn’t “The Charm”

This is the Tale of My Second Arrest which is exactly the opposite of My First.

My life at that point was utter shit. I was in the grips of of hardcore Drug Addiction. The apartment I was occupying was really quite nice when I moved in, but at this point do to neglect had become a run down hellhole. I spent all my time with my with my asshole neighbor Big Douche desperately scheming and scamming, lying and Cheating, Stealing and Robbing anything for a fucking dollar.

Once we had some cash we’d get drunk as fuck and then go score some crack. Once we smoked up all the crack we went and bought Heroin. This was a endless daily cycle .

In reality I fucking hated Big Douche and would think about killing him in his sleep constantly. He truly was a fucked up fucking asshole of a human being, too fucking damaged to ever be fixed. Big Douche was the definition of a Lost Cause. I’ll digress for now since The Tale of Big Douche will be forthcoming.

So one afternoon we had managed to scrounge up enough cash for a couple of bags of Heroin, and headed out to our usual copping spot.

I’m going to pause here to take a minute to explain exactly where we scored our shit.

I/We lived in a bustling little suburbia that was a short 15 minute drive into the State’s Capital City. Now once a go the Capital City was a rich and prosperous area full of business. Then the businesses left and so did anyone who could fucking afford to. Over the years the City decayed as it hemorrhaged money through failed attempts to improve the City.

A perfect example is the Capital City spent MILLIONS to build a Sports Stadium in the City (rather than on the outskirts) and it was an instant epic failure. See because they built the Stadium IN the city there was INSUFFICIENT PARKING.

This meant Attendees had to park on the street(s) and walk to the Stadium. The only issue with that was NO ONE wanted to walk down said streets especially with their loved ones or kids. The City even tried combating the problem by stationing a Cop on every outlying corner, AND THAT DIDN’T WORK EITHER, but I digress.

We drove through the filthy trash littered streets lined with old decrepit old houses rotting away through the years.

On any given day We’d see the wandering Hookers, Homeless Begging Bums, Gang Bangers, Pimps, Junkies, Poverty, Stray Cats and Dogs, Crackheads, Drug Dealers, and other of life’s rejected throw aways lurking and loitering on the corners or walking between/among them.

On this particular day the streets were completely vacant there wasn’t a single soul in sight. We drove around several different blocks, but it was all the same the streets were all utterly empty.

I had a bad feeling. A Gut Feeling and not a good one.

The only reason that the usual degenerates wouldn’t be out pounding the streets (committing various dastardly deeds) was a simple one. Just two simple words: Police Activity.

The Police were the preverbal Lights that when flipped on sends the Rats and Roaches scrambling for cover of any kind.

I told Big Douche that we should bail and come back later because obviously something was going on that was making the Natives Restless if you will. Now Big Douche living up to his name continued to relentlessly circle block after block searching for anyone who might be a Dope Dealer. He was franticly obsessed the way Junkies do when their fiending for a fix.

At last right as Big Douche finally was giving up we drove up on a Bodega and a Large (and rather fat) Guy strode out the door. Big Douche being a Junkie immediately decides this is a person is a drug dealer and signals him as it were.

The Guy signals back. I’m pissed as pissed can get because I couldn’t believe we hadn’t bounced yet, and that Big Douche was being a complete cunt. In some bizarre passive aggressive bullshit I deliberately didn’t look at, talk to or even acknowledged The Guy.

The Guy reaches through the drivers side window and does the exchange. Instead of driving off like a good little junkie Big Douche stops to look at the couple bags of Dope, and notices (again being a good little junkie) that the Heroin looks funny. It looks fake. Fake as a motherfucker.

Big Douche leans over and calls the Guy out stating that the Guy’s dope looks beat as shit. The Guy denies it and keeps trying to brush us off. Big Douche then decides he wants his money back (Yeah thats right he wanted the Drug Dealer to refund his money for selling him fake Heroin) and opens the Driver’s door and stood between the car and the car door arguing with the Guy.

Eventually like a junkie Big Douche stops arguing and starts begging like a big ass bitch. The Guy doesn’t want to hear a single fucking word about it. Big Douche at last accepts defeat and we start to pull away from the curb.

That’s when I saw it, thats when I knew we were fucked. What I saw was the Guy raising his arm to wave in the Cops who were hiding around the way in. The next thing we knew the Cops had 3 cars pinning us in as other Cops ran up to the car yelling like a bunch a savage assholes.

We get out of the car, handcuffed, and then driven around the corner so the Cops entrapment spot wouldn’t get blown up. They transferred us into additional Cop cars and took us to the Police Station.

Once we got there Big Douche was booked, Processed, and sent to County Jail on a slew of yet undressed charges.

I was a bit luckier since I did;t have any outstanding legal issues I was booked and then released on my own recognizance. I was also given a court date the following day.

Needless to say I didn’t sleep that night. I unplugged the phone because Big Douche keep calling asking for me to help contact people to come bail him out. I could have cared less as I was worried about being locked up the very next day.

Unlike my first arrest there was no time in-between my arrest and my trial. It happened so fast I’m really not sure if I even had a court appointed Lawyer (I don’t remember talking or meeting with one at all). I went to my court date, and I remember sitting alone in the court room as the Judge worked his way down the days docket. He finally gets to me and I remember I stood up and remained standing in the same spot.

I remember this Judge some old nasty bastard who lectured me for what seemed like fucking hours about how Drug Addicts are coming into the City to score their drugs which in turn is destroying the City itself.

BULL-FUCKING-SHIT.

First there THOUSANDS of drug addicts in the Judge’s fantastical City. And the only reason Drug Addicts were coming to his City was due to the fact THATS WHERE THE FUCKING DRUG DEALERS ARE. Also as I mentioned earlier the “Fine City” the Judge spoke of was and still is a Growing, Thriving, and Worsening SHITHOLE.

Once the cranky old cocksucker of a Judge wraps up his bullshit tirade he sentenced me to 90 Days Suspended Sentence. The first time I was arrested I got 3 years Probation with a ton of added conditions (all of which I violated like a motherfucker).

This time I simply had to stay out of trouble (aka Get Arrested Again) for 90 days then I’d be off the legal hook, and the arrest would be expunged from my Police Record.

Luckily I managed not to get arrested again (in those 90 days and ever again) though I continued to spend my days living the life of a junkie which by definition requires breaking laws left and right.

Thanks for Reading,

Les Sober

My Decade of Debauchery : The Foreshadowing Preface

After High School I didn’t have a fucking clue what the hell to do. I was young, and hated authority in any form. Needlessly to say I was jobless and had NO DESIRE to ever enter the Workforce. I had no desire to become one of those poor people who waste the prime years of their life at work only to retire and resent it. I drank like a fucking fish while smoking cigarettes excessively from the time I opened my eyes to the time I passed the fuck out. I was on numerous illicit substances usually a combination of several daily morning, noon or night. I was what is referred to as a “Functioning Drug Addict” which simply means I can party my ass off and still function.

I was EXTREMELY Opinionated and not afraid to state it no matter where or when I had an opinion on every fucking thing there was or is. My Mother I remember took me aside one day and said,”You have to watch your mouth because unless someone REALLY knows you at some point you’ll insult, offend, shock or anger someone, and their going to turn around and punch you in the face.”

I lived at home with my Mother as by then my parents had been divorced for a couple years. I also had the habit off pissing off one of my parents after a few months and then bailing to go live with my other parent. This was great for at one point I was living with my Father in a Dope Apartment in the center of town over a fancy ass restaurant, and was never there because of work and he was dating a good bit ( I met several women who’s names and faces I forget and don’t mind that I’ve forgotten.) So I had the place all to my self I had the entire run of the place. I digress for now that that is a completely different set of Stories all together, and I plan to save for another time.

I also had an extreme impulsive control issues as I had none at the time, with a horrendous temper I inherited from my Father (R.I.P) Whatever I thought to say I said and whatever I thought to do I did immediately without a single thought about any possible consequences. It was also true I had a Knack for getting in trouble, but ultimately I never suffered any serious side effects (Example: Getting Arrested Numerous Times)

I knew I needed cash to fund my” Low Life” life style and feed my various addictions as the grew bigger and badder over time. I was what is referred to by Narcotics Anonymous as a “Garbage Can” meaning we didn’t have one particular drug we craved and indulged in as opposed to others. I did them them all. I did whatever I could get my deviant hands on because my true drug was MORE. I never cared what it was just give me MORE AND MORE, but I”ll never be satisfied. I did Cocaine (I snorted and injected it), Smoked Crack, Shot/ snorted Heroin, Dropped Acid (Paper or Liquid), Ate Ecstasy and MDMA, Crystal Meth, Peyote, Micro Dots, PCP, and the some pills such as Vicodin, Xanax, Valium, but thank fuck I got out of the drug game before Pain Pills became EXTREMELY POTENT and READILY AVAILABLE. The one addiction I’m glad I narrowly avoided is/was gambling as I’m positive I suck at it from the get go, and would have lost even more shit in my life than I did with the Drink and Drugs.

I don’t include Marijuana because I don’t consider it a drug and remain a daily smoker.

With no prospects for a future outside of our shitty little town that we both despised with people we fucking hated Armenian and I decided to Sell Drugs. I don’t personally consider Marijuana to be a drug, but unfortunately the DEA decides these matters. With that said we dealt mainly in Pot, LSD and PCP. If we didn’t have what you wanted at the time we knew where to get it. This lead to a good bit of middle man work done on our part and of course charge a finders fee which could be paid in cash or stash we weren’t picky per say.

Now the Armenian was dating this girl E which meant it wasn’t just me and Armenian it was a goddamn package deal. On top of that bullshit we found out an acquaintance of ours named Guru who happened to be selling the same shit in the same area. Armenian and I decided joining forces was better than fighting for turf and customers, yet E was highly opposed to the idea and protested loudly. In spite of her opinion Armenian and I proposed to Guru our merger idea and we partnered up.

Thats Enough of That Now with More to Come.

Les Sober

Unconventional Assignment Sets English Department on its Ass

DISCLAIMER: THE FOLLOWING POST DOES NOT INDORSE, PROMOTE, SUPPORT OR GLORIFY DRUG ADDICTION. IF YOU OR SOMEONE YOU KNOW IS BATTLING ADDICTION PLEASE GET HELP.

I was a freshman in collage when I took a writing course that was billed as a creative writing class. It turned out to be a real turd. There was absolutely NOTHING creative about the class I assure you. The Professor was phoning it in as far as I was concerned. There wasn’t creativity because there was no originality. What I mean is this Guy basically ran us through a basic writing textbook full of the most mundane rudimentary writing exercises.

One fateful day the so called Professor assigned what is called “A List Exercise”. A list Exercise is writing a list describing a process such as ReBuilding a Carburetor, Baking Cup Cakes, Making a Toy Model, Groom a Dog etc. in list form. Its basically a step by step how to list.

I was so utterly disgusted with the assignment I decided to write an unconventional list because that would be interesting (I mean its a fucking list how interesting is that shit?!), and not just a half assed description of some ordinary task I chose just to complete the assignment.

When it comes to writing a classic motto of sorts is “A writer writes what they know” and with that said I decided for my unorthodox List Exercise that I would write about the ritual of the Heroin Addict which I am quite personally familiar with from my Decade of Debauchery (My past feels like several lifetimes).

Needless to say this caught the Professors eye and not in a good way. He told me it was inappropriate and that I was making a mockery of the class. The Professor then went on to report my paper to the Head of the English Department. Before the end of the day the entire English Department was gossiping feverishly about it and adding their two cents worth.

In the end I was given a slap on the wrist and told not to repeat such “Disruptive Behavior” and all would be forgiven.

Ladies & Gentlemen without a further ado for your reading pleasure I give you that very cleaver and controversial Exercise List:

Score the heroin
Find safe and private area/location
Fire up Zippo lighter and place it standing upright
Get spoon out
Place small amount of water in spoon (to help with this part bending the spoon at the base of the neck is recommended)
Combine the water and heroin in spoon
Mix water and heroin thoroughly in spoon
Place spoon over a heat source i.e. flame such as a Lighter, Match or Lit Candle
Wait for the water-heroin concoction to simmer (Bubble)
Once simmering immediately remove spoon from flame
Allow the mixture to cool (requires just an minute or so)
Place piece of cotton or a piece cigarette filter to use as a filter
Draw up heroin into syringe through the filter
Make sure to remove ALL air bubbles by flicking syringe with index finger (If you inject an air bubble it will travel to your heart and you will DIE)
Once the bubbles have burst expel the excess by pushing plunger of syringe until air is out

16.Tie off using a belt, phone cord etc. as a tourniquet

17. Insert syringe into vein at a 45 degree angle

18. Draw back plunger to see if your actually in a vein

19. If a small amount of blood rushes into the syringe your set, if not repeat #17

20. Once you’ve draw the plunger back and blood entered the syringe inject heroin slowly

21. Once the heroin is injected remove tourniquet

22. Remove needle

23. Wipe off excess blood from injection site

24. Apply pressure to stop any further bleeding

25. In 3 to 4 hours the high will wear off (possibly making you severely sick depending on how addicted you are or become)

26. When you come down you will want/need to repeat this entire list again and again and again….Until You either end up DEAD, IN PRISON or GET CLEAN.

Thanks For Reading

Les Sober