No Drummer? No Problem.

No Drummer? No Problem.

(Warning: some salty language if you happen to speak Spanish, otherwise you’re fine)

Cocaína is a helluva drug.

I wouldn’t know, because the strongest thing I’ve ever taken comes with a childproof cap and all the tablets are shaped like little dinosaurs, but I imagine that a coke-fueled musical rampage must be interesting. I can’t vouch for how enjoyable it would be, but I’m sure that like a tire fire or honey badger attack, it would interesting to watch from a safe distance.

I’m sorry for my absolute lack of knowledge on all the cool drugs the kids these days are doing. I don’t get invited to many parties, and the parties that I am invited to are usually thrown by my mother or someone related to her. I’ve tried doing drugs at those, but my extended family always gives me funny looks when I ask if they have any ecstasy on hand. Every once in a while one of my cool cousins gives me a Tylenol, but that gets be about as high as the Titanic.

Despite all of my previous attempts one of my cousins hooked me up with a drug dealer who I’ve been visiting regularly. He’s got everything on the market: aspirin, Tylenol, acetaminophen, Advil; he’s even got cough syrup in five different flavors. Next time I got to see my him I’ll ask for some of that quote, unquote prescription stuff. Maybe I’ll buy some ibuprofen without asking my mom for permission.

One thought on “No Drummer? No Problem.

  1. I think that guy opened for Oingo Boingo at Magic Mountain in 1982. As I would have had I been on that train, I gave him all my money, hoping he would leave me alone, but he wound up moving in with me and introducing me to many actors, famous musicians, and other ne’er-do-wells. Ruined my life, he did.

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