She Don't Lie, She Don't Lie, She Don't Lie....
Hey White Dade, I wanted to aks you, since blow is basically an upper, how does it exactly make you feel? How is it different from a double espresso (which I'm addicted to), or from E, which I've tried a long time ago? Weed is my favorite, so far.
Okay, first of all if Weed is your favorite I really don’t want to have anything to do with you. I’m not even sure why I’m wasting my time responding to your question. I must be hard up for ideas. Weed is not even a drug, it’s an excuse to do nothing with your life. Say what you will about cokeheads and tweakers, but at least they get shit done. By “shit” I may mean taking apart a radio and putting it back together 14 times, but at least you got off the couch. Have you ever seen a fat cokehead? Okay, yes, but not many. The point is weed is for people who can’t handle real drugs and if you are a fan of it I suggest you stay playing AA ball and let the rest of us enjoy our time in the majors.
Second, please do not ever again refer to ecstasy as “E” in my presence. You say E, I’m thinking you want to know how you’re gonna feel if you take too much alpha tocopherol before you go to Crobar. Or maybe Echinacea. Rolls, beans, X, those are all acceptable. E makes you sound like a High School Girl form Northern California who is weighing the merits of making the trip to Burning Man.
Now to your question: How does cocaine differ from a double espresso? That would be kind of like saying how does fucking Madonna compare with Monday Night Missionary with your steady girlfriend. Yeah, they’re both essenetially the same thing, but one is a nice way to feel good and the other will have you driving to a differnt time zone to get some more. You drink a double espresso, you get a little energized, then maybe you “fender bend” and get a little tired. I use that term because the word “crash” should be reserved for the terrific bloodbath of carnage and red asphalt that is the comedown from cocaine. You put some blow up your nose, and all of a sudden you can pretty much lick any man in the room. And you can fuck any girl in there too. For hours. Or so you think until you actually get the opportunity and your dick is about as hard as it is when you are in a freezing cold swimming pool with your grandma. And she’s naked. You ride along for a while and all of a sudden something happens. Maybe a song changes, maybe the light come on, maybe you remember that you have to be at work in two hours, but all at once that perfect world of confidence and coordination goes out the window and your entire world falls apart.
When you do ecstasy, it is sometimes fun to try and think of something bad. It is pretty much impossible. When I am crashing from cocaine I try the opposite, trying to think of something good, and it is equally as difficult. You are a horrible person and a disappointment to your family for doing this disgusting drug. You are going home alone so obviously you are ugly and unworthy of anyone’s amorous advances. Your friends are all losers and you can’t talk to them. Your car sucks. You are going to get to your job and everyone is going to know you were out doing blow all night. You wish for a simpler time in elementary school back when you really believed you could “Just Say No!” And then you see, out on the horizon, the sun coming up. Wow, you think, what kind of depraved individual stays out this late doing drugs and wasting their life? Now I’m going to sleep all day and have wasted another…oh, what’s that? You’ve got some more? Oh, hook me up, baby! YES! Okay, I’m back! Oh, look at the sunrise, how beautiful. Man, I can’t wait to get to work and knock out all those TPS reports I gotta do. I’m gonna kick some ass. I love my boss, and he’s gonna be so impressed. I am a GOLDEN FUCKING GOD!
See, the inherent problem with coke is that while it makes you confident, excited, optimistic, coordinated and overtly sexual, when it wears off (in about a half an hour) it makes you feel like the biggest loser on the planet. Not like alcohol where you are physically uncomfortable, or ecstasy or acid where you’re just in a haze. You are just tired and depressed and really just want some time to yourself. I stopped doing blow after I was out all night one night and had to fly from Sacramento to Miami the next morning. As soon as the Cabin lights turned off, I crashed. Hard. I considered jumping out of the plane several times and that was when I decided to never touch the shit again. Have I since? Of course, I did date multiple strippers after that. But save for a couple of individual lines, I have left the White Dust From Hell alone for the better part of the last year and a half. The crash is not worth the high, and the only solution is, well, more blow. So when that feeling is gone, and you wanna ride on…..