The Night Emit Did Too Much Cocaine

I met Emit a Year or so after I graduated from High School who was a Friend of a Friend of Mine. As Time rolled on I became quite good Friends with Emit which was easy to do considering He was Intelligent, Open Minded, Amusing, Mellow, Insanely Friendly, and Sort of Funny in His Own Way. We had several Interests in Common such as Obscure Music and Movies as well as a Shared Contempt for Social Norms, Laws, Rules, Regulations, and Stupid fucking People in General.

One Summer I had Quit My Job working on a Landscaping Crew because the Boss was the most Anal Retentive People I have ever had the Displeasure of Working For. He was one of those Assholes You come across from time to time that’s a Legend in Their Own Mind and No One Else’s. So once I reached My Tolerance Limit I simply Told Him to Go Fuck Himself to Death and Quit on the Spot. Though this Discussion made Me feel Triumphant it also Left Me without a Paycheck and Virtually fucking Broke. About a Day after I quite in the Spectacular Display of “Take this Job and Shove it Up Your Ass You Asshole”  I happened to Run into Emit. He was on the Way to a Local Indie Record Shop in the Town I was currently Residing in, and We had become accustomed to Running into One another frequently.

We walked over to a Real Greasy Spoon of a Diner to get Coffee and Chain Smoke Cigarettes (We have Both since Quite Smoking Tobacco) while We bullshitted about what was New and other Various Shit. I told Him about How I had had it with My cocksucker Boss and How I Quit, but Now needed a New Source of Income Legal or Otherwise. Emit offered to Hook Me up with a Job in a the Neighboring Town Pumping Gas at the Gas Station/ Mechanic Shop where He had been working for just under a Year. I immediately took Him up on the Offer and Went down the Following Morning to Fill out an Application and a On the Spot Interview. Needless to say I got the Job right then and there which was a Huge Relief as My Bank Account was Beyond Depleted at that Point and Rent was coming Due Soon.

           

I won’t lie that was one of the Best Jobs I ever Had My Coworkers were Cool and I had a shit ton of Fun while Working as well as When I wasn’t. One Day Emit and I were scheduled to work the 7am-3pm Morning Shift, but when I arrived at Work to relieve the Night Shift Guy He told Me Emit hadn’t arrived Yet and He hadn’t heard anything from Him either. I wasn’t worry or pissed about it as Being on Time was a Flexible Subject when Working There. It honestly wan’t all that Long Before Emit showed Up looking like Death Warmed Over. Emit stood 5′ 9″ and was Thin as a fucking Rail which made Him look rather Lanky, and a Thick Head of Hair that seriously resembled a Mop. He was Pale and Moving slowly as He greeted Me on His way to Clock in I noticed His eyes were Bloodshot as Shit, and He had Big Old Black Bags under His eyes. The Bags were so promenade it looked as if Emit had been in a Bar fight and gotten His Nose Broken for His Trouble.

I sat as Patiently as I could as Curiosity consumed Me as I ran through countless possible Scenario’s for Why Emit looked like a Sickly Corpse. As My Mind Raced I started to Clock Watch holding out My inevitable Questions in as Long as I could. That way I would at least be able to give Emit the Curtesy of finishing His Coffee which He held Clutched in His right Hand like it Contained the Meaning of fucking Life. Finally Emit took the Last Sip of His Coffee and I immediately and with a Great Deal of Excitement and Anticipation what the fuck Happened to Him. To say I that I sure a Hell wasn’t Entertained Off My Ass by Emit’s Story would be a seriously Grave Understatement. Emit obligedes Me Intense Interest and starts to Tell Me starting the Story off with by informing Me He did Cocaine for the First Time Last Night.

            

Now Don’t ask Me why Perhaps its because We moved in the Same Social Circles I just assumed that Emit had done Cocaine or at Least He had Tried it Once. I can’t Lie I have personally done a shitload of Cocaine in My Life, but to be Brutally Honest I don’t see the Point, and what I mean by that is it’s Far More Trouble than its Actually Worth (Plus there Plenty of Different Drugs One Can Do so Why Settle for Cocaine). Anyway enough about Me let Us get Back to the Story Shall We.

Emit’s Parents apparently had gone out of Town at the Last Minute for Some fucked Up Reason what exactly I don’t remember. Emit now having the Run of the House decided to Phone Up some Friends to come over and Hangout as Emit wasn’t a Party Person. Emit preferred to Entertain Small Groups because He felt it was more Personal and Intimate as Parties generally are Loud, Crowded, and You can’t hear Yourself Think half the Time. One of His Guest arrived with a 8 Ball (3.5 Grams) of What turned out to be Pretty fucking Pure Cocaine. The Night had started off Simply enough as the Quests arrived and People Poured themselves a Stiff Cocktail and Settled in for an Evening with Friends. The Night Progressed as Did the Drinking until People were Sufficiently Drunk enough to Add Drugs to the Mix. Everyone had sat in a Circle as a Small Black Plate with the 8 Ball on it was Passed Around Periodically throughout the Rest of the Night.

            

The Gathering of Friends started to Break up around 1:30am as Guest began to Depart slowly Trickling Out as They had In one or two at a Time. By 2:10 according to Emit it was just Him, His Buddy Tommy and His Girlfriend Alison. The Trio continued to Listen to Music and Chat for a while Longer after the Others had Left until in the end Tommy and Alison had to go as well. Emit now found Himself alone at Home in an Empty House, Rather Drunk, and Tweaking on a Good Bit of Potent Cocaine. One of the Shittiest things about Cocaine is it’s a Blast when everything is Lively and there’s Music Playing as You’re conversing with Friends and all that Social Shit, but Once Your Alone and the Evening is Over IT FUCKING SUCKS. Your fucking Amped Out of Your Mind yet all of the Stimulation that makes it Fun and Entertaining is Gone and all You have is You. Thats when the Negative Side Effects of Cocaine Use become Glaringly Apparent.

You start to become acutely aware of the Physical effects of Cocaine outside of the High that are Far From Pleasant. You feel your heart Pounding like a Sledgehammer against Your chest which instantly makes you start worrying You might be on the Verge of an Overdose. You start to obsesses and Calm Yourself Down, but the More You do the More the Anxiety Eats at You. You can’t sit still but theres nothing to do and no where to go accept inside of Your own head which is Not where one wants to be on Cocaine that’s for fucking sure. You start hearing Noises that make You paranoid on Every Level it’s not always about the Police (though Obviously if You do Drugs and Become Paranoid the Police are a Prime Concern for Most). You start doubting Yourself and Your Previous Decisions which again leads You back to the “Am I going to have a fucking Heart Attack from doing all this Cocaine?” Question.

            

Unfortunately being the First Time Emit did Cocaine and the Fact it was some Good Shit was Utterly Unaware of all of the Aforementioned Unpleasantries. Emit feel directly into the Heart Attack Paranoia and Angst, and began to Panic like a Trapped Rabbit. Everything He tried to Relax Not only Failed Miserably it just made Him more Hyper Focused on the Issue. Once Emit had exhausted every possibility He could think of He remembered that His Next Door Neighbor was in Fact a Medical Doctor. Even though it had gone from the Late Hours of the Night to the Early Hours of the Morning Time Wise, and the fact Emit had Never even said Hello to His Doctor Neighbor didn’t Phase Emits Choice. Emit chose to through Caution to the Wind and Go over to His Neighbor’s, Knock on the Door, and Throw Himself at Their Mercy. This was a truly Ballsy choice as the Chances where the Neighbor wouldn’t answer the Door and would Call the Cops instead.

Luckily for Emit His Guardian Angel must have been working Overtime Because His Neighbor didn’t phone the Police, and actually answered the Door. Once His Neighbor opened the Door Emit confesses that He is High as Hell on Cocaine Currently, Alone, and Terrified He is About to Have a Fatal Heart Attack. His Neighbor was a True Doctor and again instead of calling the Cops stuck Tried and True to The Hippocratic Oath and Helped Emit out of His Predicament. Essentially Emit’s Neighbor sat with Him and Chatted until the Cocaine had Worn Off Enough so Emit wasn’t scared of Cardiac Arrest, and His Neighbor said it was Time for Emit  to Go Sleep it off Ironically as it were. Emit went Home and eventually succumbed to Exhaustion and Slept for 10 Hours Straight like the Dead. After that Night Emit Never touched Cocaine ever again stating He had Learned all He Needed to Know the First Time, and what He learned most of All is Cocaine is a BITCH to Deal with.

           

From that Day On Emit Earned the Nickname Dr. Cocaine which We used Tirelessly to Bust His Balls for Years After.

Thanks for Reading,

  By Les Sober

The Motorcycle Fiasco

Since I along with the Rest of the World have a Great Deal more Down Time I have been reflecting on the Past a Bit. Yesterday in Fact I remembered the Story of The Motorcycle Fiasco, and Now I’m going to Tell It.

A Life Time Ago when I was in fucking High School My Two Best Friends where Bluejetski (whom I have Mention Before) and the other was Tuck. Tuck was the first one of Us to Get His Driver’s License and have an Actual Car. Unfortunately Tuck was a Hell of a Mechanic and Great at Starting Projects, but He was also a Procrastinator who Never seemed to Finish whatever He had Started. So While Tuck had a Kick Ass Camaro and a License the Car Remained Inoperable languishing in the Driveway. I wouldn’t be fucking surprised if the very same fucking Camaro is sitting at the Top of the Driveway at Tuck’s Parents House (Tuck I heard indeed up buying His Parents House when They Retired to New Mexico or Some other Cowboy State) to this very fucking Day.

One Day the Three of US were walking Home from some Girl’s House We went to School with who was Friends with Tuck. In the Girl’s Neighborhood there was what was Referred to as “The Biker House” because Not Only were the Owners Die Hard Hardcore Bikers, but so were Their Friends/Associates who there all the time that They might of Well Lived There (and Some more than Likely Did at One Point or Another). One this Particular Day a Buch of the Bikers had taken up Residence on the Front Lawn in Cheap Ass Beach Chairs with a Big Ass Cooler of Beer. Some of the Bikers present were in the Garage with the Door wide Open standing around a Motorcycle while Drinking Beer and Bullshitting.

           

There was also a Generic Looking Motorcycle parked Horizontally on the Lawn for whatever reason. As soon as Tuck laid Eyes on the Parked Motorcycle He became Infatuated with it, and Actually stopped Dead in His Tracks. As We Stood there watching Tuck Staring Intently at the Motorcycle while Middle of the Road One of the Bikers Acknowledged Our Presence and Called Out, and Tuck instantly responded to the Greeting Enthusiastically. Tuck walked up the Drive Way and Started talking to the Bikers congregating in the Garage for a While. Bluejetski and Myself remained standing by the Curb trying to Awkwardly figure out what the fuck Tuck was Up To Exactly. It didn’t take Long before We found Out.

All of a Sudden Tuck laughing shook several of the BIker’s Hands, walked over to the aforementioned Motorcycle, Grabs the Handlebars, Kicks Up the Stand, and Started Walking the Bike dow the Driveway towards Us. Apparently Tuck had inquired about the Motorcycle in Question and had managed to Buy it for a Whopping $50 from One of the Biker’s. No again this Wasn’t a Harley or an Indian nor was it some Asian Crotch Rocket it was just a Simple and Generic Looking Motorcycle. In Fact I don’t recall ever learning what Company did in fact make Tuck’s Motorcycle, but if I had to Guess The Motorcycle was a Small Company Leftover from the 70’s or Early 80’s. Most important of All the Motorcycle Tuck bought was in Fine Work Order and Ran Great so it wasn’t Destined to Sit Next to the Camaro for Eternity.

           

Once We returned to Tuck’s House We asked what He planned to do with His Newly Acquired Motorcycle seeing as it was running, But Not Street Legal by any means. Tuck informed Us He planned to Ride the Motorcycle as a New Hobby though He wasn’t going to get a Legal Motorcycle License, and He wan’t going to get a Insurance since He didn’t deem it Necessary. Lastly He wasn’t going to get a Legal Motorcycle License Plate for it either. When it came to the License Plate Tuck decided to Cut a Motorcycle License Plate Rectangle out of the Top of a Nike Sneakers Box. He then proceeded to make up a Fictitious License Plate Number, and literally Drew it On with a Black Sharpie.

Needless to Say one Afternoon while Tuck was out Joy Riding on His Motorcycle found Himself sitting at a Red Light when a Cop pulled Up Behind Him. Instead of figuring He was fucked and Should do whatever was in His best Interest as Far as the Police where concerned made a Different Decision. Tuck decided to say Fuck It, Turned Right, laid into the Accelerator, and Sped Off Down the Street like a motherfucker. The Police turn on Their Lights and Siren and immediately give Chase. It was a short pursuit as Tuck in all due Favor did manage to Outrun the Cop. Tuck drove Home and stashed the Bike out of Sight in the Backyard, and was coming around the Side of the House When He learned a Valuable Lesson. The Lesson was While You can conceivably Out Run a Cop You Can’t Out Run the Police Radio. As Tuck rounded the Side of The House He was greeted by the Two Police Officer’s who had Responded to the Fleeing Suspect Call, and at that point the Jig as They say was Up.

           

Luckily for Tuck the Police wrote the incident off to being Young and Dumb, and it didn’t hurt that one of the Officers was also a Big Time Gearhead. So instead of throwing the Book at Tuck for Running on Them He ended up getting $250 Fine and a Ton of Community Service (We’re talking 100 Hours or More I forget the Exact Number, But I assure You it wasn’t less than 100). The Funniest Part of the Whole Fiasco was at one Point Tuck was given a complete and thorough copy of the Police Report. We ended up reading over it one Night while Drinking 40’s of Crazy Horse Malt Liquor having one hell of a good a Laugh.

Thanks for Reading,

  By Les Sober

Eon’s Magic Mushroom Saga

It was one of those picture perfect days in the Great Southern Swamp. A crystal blue sky you could stare off into for hours, sun so bright it looked like a grotesque replica from a cheap gas station postcard and a gentle breeze to stave off the hellish heat with ungodly humidity. Eon was the only one of us (us being Eon, Armenian and myself) who had the day off from serving over priced cocktails to belligerent businessmen in over priced suits. Since the weather was so wonderful Eon decided to take a long bike ride into the center of the Swamp where there is an astounding amount of terra firma to the point it has been converted to cattle farming country long ago in a different time in the same place.

Now this wasn’t a random off the top of her head decision you see she had an exact destination complete with a obtainable goal. The hunt started  off looking for the destination which was a specific field of grazing cattle which is insanely hard due to the fact thats all there is in the center of the Great Southern Swamp are cattle grazing fields. But Eon had the upper hand because she had been given vaguely cryptic directions by a well intentioned co-worker by the name of Psilocybin. The hunt concluded with the obtainable goal of harvesting some marvelous Magic Mushrooms.

I feel its pertinent to explain the correlation between the Cattle Field and the Magic Mushrooms. Its actually quite simple biological science you see. It starts with the cows who spend all day long (at sometimes night as well as they aren’t dairy cows but rather beef cows) grazing happily in the vast open fields where one field could cover up to 100 plus aches. Since the cows eat then we all know they have to shit which they do all day long as well. With the intense heat and rabid humidity along with ample sun and rain pervides the ideal weather for nurturing the growth of funguses such as mushrooms in this case. So thusly the mushrooms sprout and mature growing in/on the cow crap in the hot, steamy environment some of which are Magic Mushrooms, but I digress.

IMPORTANT NOTE: Collecting Magic Mushrooms is EXTREMELY HAZARDOUS and could lead to SERIOUS INJURY OR DEATH. Why? HERES WHY:

  1. If you don’t know the 100% positive identification of the Magic Mushroom you could pick the WRONG mushroom causing you to become VIOLENTLY SICK and in some cases they could POISON YOU AND YOU DIE.
  2. There are BULLS out in the field NOT JUST COWS. Bulls are exactly like you’ve been told they are. BULLS ARE AGGRESSIVE, EASYLY ANGERED, TERRITORIAL and PROTECTIVE OF THE COWS as he perceives them as his women who are not to be trifled with.
  3. REMEMBER YOUR TRESPASSING which is BREAKING THE LAW and can result in you being ARRESTED OR WORSE. In the Great Southern Swamps farmer’s CAN LEGALLY SHOOT TRESPASSERS, THEY CAN USE DEADLY FORCE BY LAW. Now most Farmer’s don’t want to kill anyone especially some stupid kids SO they load their SHOTGUNS with ROCK SALT. You see ROCK SALT SHOT OUT OF A SHOTGUN will PIERCE YOUR SKIN and if you aren’t aware Salt in a wound BURNS LIKE BOILING ACID though its virtually non lethal.
  4. MAGIC MUSHROOMS ARE CONSIDERED AN ILLEGAL DRUG BY THE POLICE SO YOU ALSO RISK ARREST AND PROSECUTION FOR DRUG POSSESSION.

With mission in mind and hope in her heart Eon mounted her Thrift Store Special bicycle and started peddling in the direction of the designated  hallucinogenic promised land. After an hour or two Eon finally stumbled more or less upon the desired field and leaned her bike up against a fence pole, checked her backpack and headed into the heart of the field. As the day trailed on Eon found a plethora of Magic Mushrooms along her travels in the field and was generally pleased with how things were working out. At one point Eon paused and took note that the sun was setting and that was her sign it was time to head on home. It didn’t take long for Eon to suddenly realize she was a tad bit lost as standing in the field was like standing on a life raft in open water, where there is no way to orient oneself. So Eon did all she could to try and retrace her steps through the field and its bovine residents until Eon noticed something out of the corner of her eye. It was a rather large penis that belonged to a even larger Bull with a massive set of menacing looking horns. Eon froze as she and the Bull eyed one another up and then Eon started to run like hell. The Bull waited a brief minute and then decided even if Eon was retreating he stilled needed to settle the score because she had effectively broken into his house. Once the Bull made up his mind he charged after Eon in enraged at her indiscretion and intent on goring her to death or perhaps just trampling her to death one or the other it supposed. Eon saw the fence marking the perimeter of the field, but was unaware it wasn’t the side of the fence she entered through. Any who Eon fueled by adrenaline and the will to live hauled ass making it to the fence and baseball sliding under it just in time to avoid being killed by the Bull. BUT Eon had exited the opposite side of the field she had entered and this side of the field ended right outside of the fence at a 5-6 foot drop strait down into the deep dark (and more than likely Alligator infested) waters of one of the Great Southern Swamps numerous interconnecting canals. Luckily for Eon she managed to at the last possible second to grab hold of the long grass and weeds to keep from plummeting into the cretinous canal. Her body still pumped up on adrenaline managed to pull Eon up onto the narrow 3 foot embankment to safety.

Eon was now faced with a dying twilight and decided the best (and really only) option was to start walking along the massive fence perimeter until she inevitably found her bike. With a huge sigh of relief Eon hopped on her bike and peddled for the comfort and safety of home. Yet there was one trial left for little Eon to endure for as Eon was biking home with a back pack filled with Magic Mushroom (approximately a quarter pound or so) which are highly illegal she was “pulled over”. As it turned out it was just a local yokel cop who was rather bored and a decent enough person to stop Eon to see if she was alright. Eon told the officer she was all good and almost home (she was in fact only 4 blocks from the house when she got stopped) and with that the cop road off none the wiser.