The Fall

Now, Cobra was slicker than any of the dealers that worked for Torres. He said to the woman, “C’mon, you don’t still believe in all that stuff Nancy Reagan and D.A.R.E. shoved down your impressionable little throat all those years ago, do you?”

The woman said to Cobra “Nah, I mean, I’ve smoked marijuana and tried some pills and mushrooms and things, but I won’t touch heroin ‘cause that stuff will kill you.”

“Like hell it will,” Cobra said to the woman. “When that rush hits your veins, the world is a magical, happy, dreamlike place and all your worries will go away.”

As the woman spent more time with Cobra and his friends she saw their euphoria every time they shot up, she decided to try it. She also convinced the new hot piece of ass she had picked up on the boardwalk to try it. And both of them became instantly addicted and started blowing their rent money on more dope and spending a lot of time standing in line at the clinic for the needle exchange. Continue reading →


Sierra Mist? That seems to be my only association with the word sierra, although Sierra Mist really came out after my soda drinking phase.

My house was full of soda when I was a kid. Soda and Little Hugs (remember those?). We had pallets of soda in glass bottles in our garage and back hallway, and boxes and boxes of Little Hugs my dad brought home from the dollar store. We weren’t allowed to gorge on them, however. We had a strict limit of one per day. The same principle applied to our candy drawer and cookies; we always had plenty of junk food in the house but we had to ask permission every time we wanted something and my mother kept our intake moderated pretty well. Continue reading →