Oh shit you guys, this is not good. I’m fucked. I pitched this article where I would smoke crack and write all about what happened, but I just woke up three days later and everything is weird and I smoked all the crack and I didn’t write a fucking thing down!
I can’t even find a pen in my apartment. Or my furniture. What the fuck?
I thought my article would start with a trip to the seedy underbelly of the city, where I’d mix it up with some users and listen to their heartbreaking stories. But before I left to the other side of town I was telling my neighbor about my assignment and it turns out he smokes crack. Isn’t that unique and totally taboo? He even said he’d sell me a little bit.
So that was definitely cool, but it totally fucked up the beginning of my article. If we’re being honest though, I was pretty glad I didn’t have to go to the scary part of town. I didn’t need to see how drug addicts live just to enjoy some crack right? Of course not. Bring on the crack. Where the fuck is my furniture?
I guess the last thing I remember was getting ready to smoke the crack. I gave my neighbor $200 and he gave me what he described as a “small rock.” He told me I should smoke the whole thing, so that’s what I did. He even offered to stop by with more later and said I’d better leave him my apartment key just in case I was sleeping when he came back. That guy must really know a lot about crack because after smoking one little rock I was knocked the fuck out.
So now it’s a few days later, I’m on a deadline. I’m sleepy and have a headache and I’m starting to realize what happened. But I still don’t have enough to write an article about. What do I do? I don’t even have any insights or anything. Maybe a headline like “We Smoked Some Sort of Drug Our Neighbor Gave Us And Got Robbed Blind” would work? Or “We Smoked Crack And Lost Everything We Own.”
Have any of you seen my furniture?
Have you seen Mark’s furniture? Let us know in the comments below!
Article by Mark Roebuck @mark_roebuck.