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Post-Modern Drunk: Crack in a Box
I have become addicted–in a technical sense, though I can stop at any time–to cocaine in a rock.
Well, it's really more cocaine out of a vial. It's not the cocaine in a nice ziplock that people think of when they say "primo shit." This is not "Columbian marching powder."
It's more like a giant space crystal, but with a different type of crystal. Special magical crystals, that make you forget things, pick fights with frat boys, and generally enjoy life a litttle more than you might have had you remained sober.
It's not just any cocaine, though. It's crack cocaine. Rock from Columbia (they don't get any more specific than that). This may in fact be the most smokable cocaine derivative I've had in a long time. It goes down just like water. Magic water. It's everything a young crackhead needs to sustain him through these hot lonely nights.
It's $5 a bump, or you can get it by the eight-ball. And here's the best part! It's sold by rocks or slabs, not by improperly weighed out baggies. It's at least a third more high for your bick.
This might in fact be the champagne of adulterated cocaine.
