Is anyone more given to slippery, specious rhetoric and empty, treacly platitudes than politicians and the hippie “activists”-slash-entertainers of yore?

Sometimes if I’m walking with someone I don’t know very well I think about how pieces of a building could collapse on us in a freak accident and then we’d forever be tied by some thing that happened to us that neither of us could control. I think about how embarrassing it would be to watch a stranger bleed out.

Thus candy buttons, the most aggravating sweet treat ever, were born. Here’s how you eat them: peel one off ever so slowly so as to avoid getting that obnoxious chunk of paper. Get chunk of paper nonetheless and swear under your breath.

When I found the little folded patch of tinfoil in the slot built to house pens and pencils, I remembered the three hits of acid I’d stored there and had one of those why not? moments before the tabs found my tongue.

It was with my friends and coworkers at The Pub that I first took morphine. Chris scored a few 30 mg pills and we each washed one down with Budweiser. We kept drinking through the night and the morphine crept in and made for this light, float-y high…


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