Say no to drugs

Gawker linked to a blogger named "Edgar Winter" the other day and a little shingle he calls Cocaine Corner. Edgar loves to boast of blow addiction, like many other New York jackasses, and never fails to talk about how cool it is to snort rails.

Huh? Cool? Who dropped this motherfucker on his/her head? How fucked up do you have to be to spin a silver lining out of chemical dependence?

Maybe it's just me being shrill, seeing as to how my douschebag uncles in Selden, New York, moved from dealing the weed to the powder back in the mid-1980s. These were men who very poorly concealed their razors and mirrors from the eyes of a precocious 12-year-old, who was world-weary enough from his own combative household to know there was something grim afoot. They were wired asswipes, on all the time, treating their wives and daughters like shite. Maybe my own father saw the good time rolling in Selden, and tried to convince mom to let him move blow out of the house. Not like any of these unrelated factors would have soured me on coke or anything...

The call goes out: Pass me my dirt rake, for there are beatings to hand out and ’splosions to undertake.

As an aside, Neil Young has a cool song called Cocaine Eyes.