So, your grandpappy, pap-pap, or whatever you be calling him might have some crazy adventure tales about wars, bullets, and skulls or wolves and saving drowning babies or lassoing shit. And mom and dad might have some tripped-out daisy in the pussy, naked peen dangling in the river, LSD beard stories. Uncle Dennis might spin a few yarns about the cocaine roller skates amyl nitrate mesh tank top and huge AIDS mustaches. But us kids, when we get old and ready to rock the rocking chair with tales are gonna be all about the pill adventures.
The Xanax and the naps in the fire. The Oxycontin, 40 ounce, and all the pennies in your butt. The anti-depressant experiment binges and forcing yourself to masturbate at least twice a year because Zoloft killed your sex drive. The hydrocodone, wine, and slobbery voice mails. The snortin' the Ritalin and shaving your entire body sessions. The Klonopin kisses. That old Wellbutrin wiggle, that funky Paxil get- and breakdown. And the one pill adventure that I think I will most enjoy re-telling to the grandbabies, which will horrify and entice them with fright and will go also go nice with a big, toothless old lady grin and candlelight, is that of the 30mg Adderall. Little orange time release capsule from HADES. Hade's basement. Hade's basement's crawl space. Hade's basement's crawl space and crypt toilet. I can't even give this shit away!
Stay the fuck away from it unless you are into or curious about how far inward one can travel into the dank, sloshy pit of paranoia. In that case, you go there girl. You know that Oh-no-the-cocaine-is-wearing-off-very-quickly-and-if-I-don't-do-another-line-soon-I-will-succumb-to-the-hot-depression-rising-inside-my-ribcage-like-a-river-full-of-black-watery-shit-stink in your stomach feeling? Thinking so hard and deeply on the most insignificant tiny pore of thought that you can almost hear the skull tightening in on your grey matter and wringing every bit of wetness left of your brain till it feels like a strangled, powdery, dry blowfish stuck behind your eyes? Having to find the most all-hole-filled, rapey, S&M, blood-splatter porn to satiate your sustained state of psychotic horniness? The constant hum of silence becoming unbearably deafening and making your ears swell like heaving bullfrogs tied to your cranium? What is that hum???!!! The air is pixelated? Your face is dots? If grandma tells me she loves me one more time I am going to stab her face until its one satisfying giant hole? And yay! This is time-release and that means basically forever. The docs finally did it, and took every tiny slice of fun out of pill abuse with this little orange attack. The pill adventure that will unveil the wicked!