A long time ago, in my early twenties, I was at a party - a real honest to goodness straight up bacchanalia that would have made Keith Richards storm out in disgust - and people were mainlining heroin. They asked me if I wanted a hit, and I said "No. I'm afraid of the needle. It's too dangerous."
That's when the dude who brought it spoke up and said "Well, you're in luck. This stuff is very clean, pure enough to snort and get off."
So I did a line. About 20 minutes later a warm fuzzy euphoria enveloped me like an angel floated down from Heaven and wrapped me in it's wings. All I could think about for 2-3 weeks afterwards was getting some more. Good thing I didn't know any dealers at the time or I would have, and without a doubt I would have gotten strung out.
"Wet Brain" is strictly an alcoholism thing. I get that there is something similar with all addiction regardless of substance of choice, but there is a difference with alcohol. There's a symptom profile unique to it alone.
And you can actually kick heroin with only 5-7 days worth of physical withdrawal effects. Suboxone takes 30-60 days. Out of the frying pan and into the fire.
There was a gal that I knew at an apartment complex that I lived in several years ago who got strung out on Hydrocodone. She told me that she wanted to quit, and I told her I could ween her off with Kratom, but she didn't believe me.
A few days later she knocked on my door looking like hammered shit dying of cholera. She wanted to try some Kratom. She was shaking and breaking out in cold sweats because she was already about 36 hours into withdrawal. She could barely walk.
I mixed her up a cup that was about three times the dose that I would take for Lyme pain.
She drank it without complaining (the powdered form tastes like a combo of dirt and lawn clippings), and about an hour later she said "OMG! I Feel fine now."
Kratom doesn't get you high like bonafide opiates do, but it hits the same receptors in your body.
I managed to gradually ween her off until she was normal again.
She was cute, and I didn't even try to fuck her. I'm rather proud of that.
(If you knew me you'd know what a struggle that was)
Carry around something innocuous that can be used as a weapon, like a bike lock and short length chain or cable. Or at least a cane/walking stick. Some of them are designed with a concealed blade in the handle.
I figured they probably were. I've seen those Blackthorns. Pretty badass. There's an ancient Irish martial art built around the use of those things. I saw a demonstration vid on YouTube by some older Irish practitioner. Dude was deadly with that thing.
I carry around one of these. There's a lead weight in the business end. One swat and it's "lights out."
In times past, it was the norm for parents to counsel on those issues and pass their accumulated wisdom on to their children, but ever since the 60's, people get older, but they never become elders, and that was Kosher engineered.
Lol. I haven't been that strapping for around a decade. About 8 or 9 years ago, this cute, chesty late 20's brunette moved into the apartment next to mine. We ended up hitting it off, and she was a nympho. The first time we messed around, she wanted to go again 10 minutes later. I was kinda tired, but decided "Ok, let's do this thing." I put in a more than satisfactory journeyman effort I thought, but after one post coitus cigarette she wanted to go again.
I was like "Was your last boyfriend a triathlon champion or something? I ain't cut from that bolt of cloth. You're gonna have to settle for the Daily Double at best."
There were nigger and spic gangs in the barracks when I was in the Army in the 90's. Me and a couple of buddies tried to tell our First Sargent how they were turning the barracks into the 'hood, but he was a nigger so you can imagine that went nowhere. He just smiled at us.
When I enlisted after highschool, I think the recruiters thought I was a dumbass because I only had a GED. I got good grades (straight A's in fact), I just left about a 3rd of the way thru my senior year because I was sick of how ghey public school was, and I was having problems at home with my fucked up family. We put the "Funk" in dysfunctional.
Anyway, I almost maxed out my ASVAB test. Only missed a couple of questions. It's no big accomplishment though because most of it is on about an 8th grade level. But my recruiters were all "Damn dude! You blew that test out of the water! You can do anything you want in the Army! Anything at all." Really, they made a big deal about it like it was unusual.
Then I got in Basic Training and found out I was surrounded by cannon fodder retards. Probably about 70% of enlisted military personnel fall into that category or close to it. Especially in today's multi-kulti military.
High scores weren't stopping anybody when I joined in '92. What year was it when you tried to enlist?
But yeah, back then they frowned on visible tattoos big-time.