Listen up, kids. It’s time for uncle Ray to tell you all the truth about drugs. Some of what I’m about to say here may sound "un-cool" or "lame," but I’m an old man and I’ve been around the block several times. So, pay attention and learn some shit, you degenerate children...
They say alcohol limits inhibitions, so it makes sense for more assertive and outgoing communities to be opposed to driving after a few beers. Sure, the east coast is an obvious example. But also, take, for instance, Salt Lake City—they don’t even have real beer at the bars and the Mormons are more aggressive than even the most stereotypical Portland panhandler. I imagine that drunk Mormons would be among the most aggressive and worst humans on the planet. So, it makes sense to keep them away from the blood of Christ in boxed and/or bottled form. But, Portland lacks any of the assertiveness found in even the most "Ayy, I’m walkin’ heeyuh" of east coast cities, let alone S.L.C.
We’re the city of oversensitivity, apologies and four-way stops at which transplants in Subarus have hand-waving contests to see who is more polite, while traffic backs up for miles and the bike shops continue to make money hand-over-fist, robbing people who do the math and realize that a unicycle ride would get them home quicker than a motorized vehicle. Imagine, if you would, if even a small portion of Portlanders lacked the inhibitions required for perpetual politeness and being aggressively non-confrontational. All I’m saying is that, in this circumstance, a few shots aren’t necessarily a bad thing—why do you think there’s no 3:00am rush hour, even though half of the people in this town work service industry? Shift drinks, that’s why. Also, I’ve never been stuck behind a skateboarder in Portland—those drunk little shits can do 30mph uphill. Why? Pabst, that’s why.
Sure, the neighborhood weed store is great and we all love to support mom-’n’-pop shops. But, as far as the endless stream of billboards advertising high-end dispensaries, weed delivery apps and cannabis stocks? Yeah, they can fuck right off. We went from buying this shit behind the convenient store and risking a felony, to ordering dabs using our iPhones. At no point in the game were we given our libertarian fantasy, in which the sale and possession of weed was simply allowed to happen. So, like everything else that was once dangerous and now mainstream (punk rock, Four Loko, feminism, etc.), cannabis commerce and culture has become a snobby, elitist cesspool full of the exact same people who used to rat out weed smokers for selling drugs behind the convenience store.
From the small shops to the street dealers, not much has changed, except we went from illegal and profitable, to legal and broke. This is something that we need to pay attention to (especially if we work in or around the sex industry)—it’s now cheaper to pay the fines associated with selling weed on the street, without a license, than it is to register as a cannabis distributor in California, Washington, Oregon or Colorado. There’s a big difference between legality and freedom—the former is simply the latter, but without poor people.
At an after hours party years back, I was living the DJ dream. Yes, it’s true—if you work in a popular club, even if you are a total dork, at some point, you’ll end up surrounded by drugs, topless chicks and hard booze, in a shitty warehouse that rents out their space for cash on the weekends. One particular night at one such establishment, a coworker of mine had decided to remove her shirt, lay down on the pool table and start railing out lines on her double-D tits. This, I thought, was my bucket list’s wet dream. So, I took her up on the offer, for what turned out to be the nastiest, sweat-filled, goopy blob of blow I’ve ever had the misfortune of doing.
Not only are fake tits sweaty after their owner takes a few shots and dances to "This Is My Song" by Pandora Playlist, but they’re firm and round, which means that half of the blow ends up in armpits. And, yes, there are guys who will be glad to do this, but no, I’m not one of them. Kids, I recommend that, if you want to do some blow off of a pair of tits, stick strictly to A-cups on bored women.
You know how that friend of yours, who never once gave off the impression that she’d ever do drugs, is now a junkie and in recovery? That’s thanks to the seamless transition between doctor-prescribed opiates and cheap-ass street drugs, which do the same thing for a fraction of the price. And, what about alcohol? Coke makes you talk too much. Weed makes you laugh at dumb shit. ’Shrooms make it hard to drive. Molly makes you horny for the wrong people. Now, imagine if you took all of those negative aspects about each drug, as mentioned here, but also remove from them any and all positive medicinal, emotional or spiritual benefits? Well, you’d be left with alcohol, the only drug fully endorsed by every state in our country. It’s odd, how you can self-exclude from casinos if you’re a gambling addict, but when it comes to booze, I know actual bars that will take A.A. chips for drinks. Now, in comparison, LSD makes you a better person, often on multiple levels, but even typing that sentence is a Class C felony, so now I have to go turn myself in.
