My Life As A Drug Runner
#1
Pants are for suckaz
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My Life As A Drug Runner
I'm GeorgeWBushed up right now but I'm going to try this anyway.
1991. Second grade but tall for my age(8821 Sunny Brook Rd) I answered an ad, "Unscrupulous bike rider needed. Must have bike & lock". It was at a sketchy back ally on Magnolia Ave. I jacked some kid's bike on the way over, I also bought a length of chain at a hardware store & a Masterlock.
Mostly pedaling drugs, it started a career I would never forget. I graduated to a SS conversion, then another being influenced buy the sleek bikes stolen by other crackheads. I had several other name brand frames, but because of the time that has passed & sampling my own product, the names escape me. I just know they were expensive & way too small.
Soon I had a Huffy frame in my size, pearl white paint & my first set of true FG wheels. I don't even remember how I got it. I worked for several dealers, many times I worked for 2 dealers at a time. I made loads of cash, most of which I spent on internet pr0n.
I was homeless for a time, sleeping in an alley on an "aerobed" i purchased after watching a compelling infomercial while high one night. I locked my bag to a pole, slept with my bike on the inflatable mattress, hugging it like a pillow. Many times my slumber was interrupted by tranny night walkers spooning me like, "hey, buddy. you lookin' for a good time?".
There wasn't cell phones like now, just pagers & the "nickel trick" (you'd insert a quarter into a payphone, press the lever slightly until you heard a click, the quarter would drop out & you'd then insert a nickel & make the call. I knew every payphone in a 2x2 block area that this trick worked on). The whole test to become a dealer was, the customer would ask you a question like, "where can I find some blueberry yum yum?" If you answered correctly, you made a sale.
Those were good times. I still sometimes want to go back to being a dealer. It was one of the only gigs where, fresh out of jail, you could get hired based on your knowledge of the sticky icky, then excel because of your speed & crack rocks.
There were programs on local TV featuring dealers [Americas Most Wanted, COPS, etc.], highlighting that it's one of the most dangerous jobs in the city, yet we're not covered by insurance. They highlighted the different dealers that were killed in the line of duty, calling for a "Gang" (is there one now?)
I loved being a dealer. I salute those of you who smoke that schwag every day. Ride safe.
[/parody of a parody]
Sorry.
1991. Second grade but tall for my age(8821 Sunny Brook Rd) I answered an ad, "Unscrupulous bike rider needed. Must have bike & lock". It was at a sketchy back ally on Magnolia Ave. I jacked some kid's bike on the way over, I also bought a length of chain at a hardware store & a Masterlock.
Mostly pedaling drugs, it started a career I would never forget. I graduated to a SS conversion, then another being influenced buy the sleek bikes stolen by other crackheads. I had several other name brand frames, but because of the time that has passed & sampling my own product, the names escape me. I just know they were expensive & way too small.
Soon I had a Huffy frame in my size, pearl white paint & my first set of true FG wheels. I don't even remember how I got it. I worked for several dealers, many times I worked for 2 dealers at a time. I made loads of cash, most of which I spent on internet pr0n.
I was homeless for a time, sleeping in an alley on an "aerobed" i purchased after watching a compelling infomercial while high one night. I locked my bag to a pole, slept with my bike on the inflatable mattress, hugging it like a pillow. Many times my slumber was interrupted by tranny night walkers spooning me like, "hey, buddy. you lookin' for a good time?".
There wasn't cell phones like now, just pagers & the "nickel trick" (you'd insert a quarter into a payphone, press the lever slightly until you heard a click, the quarter would drop out & you'd then insert a nickel & make the call. I knew every payphone in a 2x2 block area that this trick worked on). The whole test to become a dealer was, the customer would ask you a question like, "where can I find some blueberry yum yum?" If you answered correctly, you made a sale.
Those were good times. I still sometimes want to go back to being a dealer. It was one of the only gigs where, fresh out of jail, you could get hired based on your knowledge of the sticky icky, then excel because of your speed & crack rocks.
There were programs on local TV featuring dealers [Americas Most Wanted, COPS, etc.], highlighting that it's one of the most dangerous jobs in the city, yet we're not covered by insurance. They highlighted the different dealers that were killed in the line of duty, calling for a "Gang" (is there one now?)
I loved being a dealer. I salute those of you who smoke that schwag every day. Ride safe.
[/parody of a parody]
Sorry.
#2
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The first parody was almost funny, this one had no chance.
#3
misanthropist
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swing from the nuts of a guy everybody hates x2
#5
chickenosaurus
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#6
Head Chief
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At least he said he was sorry
#9
馬鹿野郎!
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I love you Ryan. I'm bit drunk, though.