Just got one of those thoughts that usually hits right around this time of night.
Don’t see it coming and it just shows up out of nowhere, drops its ass into the easy chair of my pre-frontal cortex and figures it’s gonna stick around for a while.
Usually happens right after I lose track of my sheep count, or maybe it’s the other way around, but there it is when I really don’t feel like thinking about it – or anything else, for that matter – but it’s just too good not to invite in for a chat.
If nothing else, gotta get it down somewhere in case tomorrow morning, or later this morning, or later today comes around and I can’t remember whether I really thought this or not.
I’ve determined the one definitive advantage that meth and heroin have over prescription and over-the-counter medications.
How those little $10 smack sacks and comparably-sized bags of ice you get from some really sleazy dude with stringy white hair, shoulder length (all eleven of them) and, like, no body mass whatsoever hanging out on the street corner –
those little pouches are actually better (in one unarguable way) than the little bottles of a veritable plethora of delectable treats awaiting them from their trusted pharmacist…
… with the pharmacist being the lowly street dealer, the “Jay and Silent Bob”s of the Health Care industry with Pfizer being Heisenberg and Kaiser taking over for Jesse Pinkman.
One overlooked advantage to virtually any one of the street drugs, so we might as well go with the two biggest bullies on the block:
at least with heroin and methamphetamine …
you pretty much know how badly they’re gonna fuck with you.
Even that creepy bastard hanging outside the local biker bar or in private room of the closest upscale X-er dance club ain’t gonna shit you about that.
And he is generally the one that is expected of.
And just as an afterthought …
if the Walton family could work out a deal to have it grown in China,
and get the exclusive patent,
and the Koch Brothers could arrange transportation and distribution without having to rely on the illegal cartels and crackheads receiving SSI …
well then, pot …
(that dangerous, deadly Schedule 1 “gateway drug” known to treat and manage – if not actually cure – cancer, epilepsy, multiple sclerosis, asthma, Crohn’s Disease, anorexia, epilepsy, fuckin’ Tourette’s Syndrome, PTSD, anxiety, depression, Hepatitis C, hypothyroidism, Bell’s Palsy, degenerative arthritis, glaucoma, psoriasis, and Alzheimer’s)*
… weed would be legal in all fifty states quicker than you can say “Jeff Spicoli”.
Legal and right up there on the shelves alongside the Camel non-filters, quarts of Jim Beam, twenty-four packs of Lone Star and those piquant-yet-mildly-fruity-with-a-hint-of-oak Syrahs the true aficionados religiously and orgasmically quaff by the quart every single night of the week.
Right up there on the shelves, two aisles down from the Hungry Man frozen dinners.