All The Drugs

I’m not exactly proud to admit that, in my youth, I did all the drugs – all of them. It really wasn’t my fault though, because I lived in Wisconsin, and when you live in Wisconsin there’s not a lot to do. Basically, you can get drunk enough to drive a snow mobile across a river, impregnate your high school sweetheart, or do all the drugs. I didn’t have a snow mobile or a high school sweetheart, so the decision was made for me.

The thing about doing all the drugs is that, if you start early enough in the day, you quickly forget which drugs you’ve already done, and “never mix, never worry” flies out the window.

What I’m saying is you start out traditionally with a wake ‘n’ bake, as required by scripture. But then you need to wake yourself back up for the day with a strong pot of coffee, and no one makes coffee like the Irish. But you can’t just have coffee. You also need to get some vitamins in you. So, you pour yourself some orange juice, to boost your vitamin C, and add some vodka and Vicodin, for your V vitamins. Then, when lunch rolls around, you want to continue the health trend with a Bloody Mary salad, and maybe another cup or two of coffee, and no one makes coffee like the Spanish. But now that you’ve eaten nothing but liquor and edibles, you’ll probably feel a bit nauseous, and nothing cures nausea like opium.

Now, your day’s going great. So, you head on over to your friend Jessica’s, where she has a line of coke waiting, because she’s a good host. Even if you don’t usually do coke, proper etiquette says, “if someone offers you coke, you clear your mirror” and I’m very polite. Next thing you know, it’s time for dinner and mushrooms are a healthy choice, and salvia makes for a great dessert.

And that’s the moment when Jessica turns into Ms. Piggy, which isn’t a commentary on her actual weight or appearance, but a phenomenon common to habitual users of psychedelics called “muppetization.” Much like daybreak, muppetization is the cue to go home, but the only way out of Jessica’s apartment is the patio. And just then you remember… Jessica lives in a fourth story apartment in downtown Milwaukee, and doesn’t have a patio, but you have to keep telling yourself that or you’ll just walk out a fucking window.

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Too Positive

It’s probably safe to assume my fans are all sex positive. Personally, I’m not.

It has nothing to do with morality or superstition. I’m just terrified of STDs – phobic. Like I’ve had sex before, which is why I’m convinced I have undetectable gonorrhea. And of course I realize I could just wear a condom, but I also know me, and I know my luck, and knowing my luck I’ll be the first person to strap on a prophylactic lined with HPV.

Living in Portland, I frequently hear the words “the more promiscuous the cleaner.” And that may very well be true, assuming your genitals are a kitchen, but here in Reality Land it turns out sexually transmitted diseases are transmitted sexually; it’s in the fucking name. Still, everyone in this city walks around coughing and sniffling all year, complaining about allergies. It’s not allergies, Portland. It’s AIDS.

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A Good Guy

We all have terrible friends, and if you’re not sure which of your friends is a monster, it’s the one you always describe as “a good guy” – that subhuman piece of garbage. Like, if you’re ever talking to someone and say, “I don’t like Carl. He’s always saying racist shit.” If the answer you get back is, “Yeah, but he’s a good guy.” Carl also eats babies.

And you rarely hear it said about women. You never say, “I don’t like Cynthia, because she’s always spouting racist shit” and get back “Yeah, but she’s a good woman,” unless you’re talking to Carl, who’s still a racist piece of shit, but now he’s also sexist. Because, if you think about it, “she’s a good woman” is usually a thinly veiled euphemism for “she always has dinner ready and lets me hide meth in her vagina.”

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