That is my big thing. I think that shit’s the cause of many, many of life’s problems. Many people suffer catastrophic physical consequences from these things. The poor around here casually consume that shit.. acting like there is some gem to be found in the use of such substances.
I have had many friends die from drugs and alcohol over the years. Not directly, but just gradually. One young man’s heart exploded from Cocaine.. others had alcohol problems, along with drug problems.
For the poor, it’s like a horror story. But boy, they still do it. Ugggg. Every time I see someone buy a six pack at the store I think..”man.. that’s a T bone steak, right there.”
The Inner City shows you a lot about the human heart, and a lot about survival. I was reading a short article about why one woman loved being a prostitute…but she has not seen the lives of these poor wretches in the inner city. Their teeth are out because of drugs, or they have been knocked out. Many times, the cops will not even answer a call if they know the woman in question.
The whole thing about them seems to be about drugs. They are ALWAYS in denial. “He’s not my pimp!”… “I haven’t used in X amount of days.”.
I guess it is O.K. if you are Charlie Sheen, or whoever. But for the poor, vice is devastating. The bars in the inner city are often dangerous places, with deranged clientele. Many of them are good places to eat during the day. I like going down to John’s Deck downtown, say 2 PM.. that’s when happy hour starts. They’ve got 1/2 price appetizers, many of them very good. The wings very good. The mushrooms very good.
As far as “victimization” goes, I think the men are “victimized”. At any rate, a T bone steak is great. A dog is often a great companion, and so is a cat, with a more natural affection than most human beings, Many of these chicks are quite rascally..will rob you, or give a quite cold blooded experience. Compare that to your dog. There’s no such thing as figuring the rates for a cuddle, a scratch behind the ears, or let’s play “fetch the stick”.
In other words.. who needs the bitch? I work too hard for my money to eventually go to some dopeman.
It is surprising how much a crazy, violent person can control the rest of society. The cops get called again and again about the pimps. The pimps use intimidation, and the women won’t rat out on them. One girl told me..”well who is gonna protect me while I wait for him to go to trial?”. Pretty good point.
A well made grilled cheese sandwich, now that’s my idea of a party. That, along with nobody to distract you with their bullshit.