Saturday, April 4, 2015


Mexican Mafia and Dirty Biker Gang commonalities; "It'll make ya feel like a million bucks - trust me dude" -- The lizard skinned mullet man 2002

(Author's note: this was supposed to be a piece on my small experiences with crystal meth but it is hard to talk about meth without coke because I only encountered meth because of doing coke.

This is an unfinished piece as I try to find a better through line or more narrow piece to write about.)

I've smoked it and snorted it (first time I forgot to crush it up and immediately threw up). It has been a kid brother helping me out when I was out of MY Big Daddy, and it was the only thing keeping me from withdrawals.  The only reason I ever used it was because I had none of my guy left.

And my dude is a bad motherfucker. I've been told my choice is basically like taking money and throwing it in the trash and I should be using kid brother for my escape from life.

People love it.


  I've never felt like it did anything but make me feel normal. And the only times I have have done it I had either been doing mass quantities of Yayo all night and day and didn't want to experience the come down of cocaine withdrawals where you will do just about anything to get more white lines. But this is about crystal of which I know none of the slang for as I have done it less than a handful of times and still have all my teeth as a result.

I have done two types of meth. The first was from a cartel who this girl I was unlucky enough to know was working for. It was brownish yellow kind of looked like sugar in the raw. 
The second I had the delight of doing a fresh from the cook house batch of Annie or Anhydrous.  It was white and looked more like coke.

I had a lot of access to money the first times I did meth but not a lot of easy ways to get coke when I ran out and had no other option.

Coke is mostly a waiting game and the highest part of doing coke is the mindless hours fiending and waiting for your dealer to call you back or being told to go to a spot and wait til they get there give em your money and wait til they get back.  That's the dry high. 

The first line, actually the second you get your bag and ditch the dude who you may have to do a gratuity line with, and you either hide it in the best place you can in your car or you just palm it and get home as fast as you can. That is the  calmest part. Knowing you've got an eight ball or hopefully more and I can go home when I lived by myself and do my routine.

Ok i guess this piece is now about powders I was gonna do a little piece about the handful of times I did meth but FUCK IT! 


And I had one long run of doing coke for as long as I could sleeping it off and then taking those hours pestering my everything guy to get off his ass and call the black guy D or Jr. The short fat mexican who had to go on  the lamb after he shot a guy in front of the 7-11.

I just looked up all my old dealers of whom I knew their real names and they are all in jail or have warrants.

It was in the  first few minutes of the video game Battlefield Hardline that I got a trigger to even think about coke or the people I associated with or even what it was like to be a coke head.

I am going to post this un finished rambling so my blog master will write something.


More to come...

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