Cocaine

Smells like 1979, tastes suspiciously like baby laxatives. I distinctly remember my 11th grade psychology teacher telling us how he and his equally impressionable friends would snort a line or two off a switchblade and strut around the mall back when he was a wild child of the 80's. Was I intrigued? Yes. Very intrigued? No. I didn't have the money or the time or the resources to try coke. I still don't have the money. I don't think I have the right mindset for cocaine (or the money needed to actually pursue a respectable addiction). I prefer psychedelics. I consider a day spent wallowing in my innermost thoughts and kookiest delusions a day well spent. It's also easier to notice if 'shrooms or marijuana's laced with something (questionable) found under the bathroom sink. I'm always willing to take that risk with ecstasy, but any depraved fifteen year old or self-indulged twit in a Jetta can tell you that ecstasy is the funnest drug around. It makes you notice your nipples.

So, about two minutes in, it begins. Snorting, fidgeting, sniffling and all that jazz. $25 and twelve minutes later, you're left with nothing. I honestly don't see the big fucking deal. Considering all the films glorifying it, all the shady dealings surrounding it, all the Central American countries that are ravaged for it and the entire decade of the 1970's it seems like a lot of fucking effort just so your mouth can be numb for a moment. All I can say is, "well, at least it's not crack."