Cocaine

Cocaine: (n) an addictive drug derived from coca

Some folks might find me very interesting if I talked about my use of cocaine or my addiction. But even though it was plentiful in Nashville, Tennessee, in the 1970s, and I was offered the white dust frequently, I passed.

Now, I did not decline because I was self-righteous or anti-drugs. I passed because of the reasons I was given to snort.

“You’ve gotta try it, man. It makes you more creative, it makes you more horny and it makes sex feel twice as good.”

That’s some pretty heavy-duty advertising. But I went down the list:

I did not want to be creative because a drug expanded the walls of my arteries and forced blood to my brain. I wanted creativity to come from a different place in me. I wanted it to be real. I wanted it to be mine. I was jealous. I didn’t want cocaine taking credit for my writing.

I didn’t want to be more horny. The danger of being more horny is that you start screwing people you don’t care for all that much. I like a little romance with my sex, if you don’t mind. I did not want cocaine picking out my sex partners.

And you can call me conventional, or too well-satisfied, but I have found that the big bang available at the culmination of the sex act is quite enough for me.

Of course, the danger is that if you convince yourself that you need cocaine to have good sex, the intercourse, which would be very beneficial to your health, might be greatly diminished by the cocaine, which is similar to setting off a hand-grenade near your heart.

Beware of those who always want more.

Honestly, I don’t settle for anything–but I do have the capability of “gettin’ my own” without taking a hit from anyone or anything.

 

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Bulldog

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Bulldog: (n) a dog of a sturdy smooth-haired breed with a large head and powerful protruding lower jaw

It was a bulldog named Polka.

One of my sons and his family purchased this old, brutish mutt, compelled by an inner need to display a dog which is obviouslDictionary By suffering from image issues and a variety of afflictions. She snorted, she slobbered and she found it very difficult to get around, spending a lot of her time panting.

So obviously, I felt an immediate affinity to her.

She apparently liked me, too–because every time I arrived at the house, she perched herself at the front door and wiggled her butt the best she could, while simultaneously peeing on the floor.

I can’t say it was the best greeting I ever had, but certainly the most sincere.

Bulldogs are known for having a difficult time acquiring air through their distorted snouts. So one day, in the midst of an extraordinarily hot, Florida afternoon, Polka exerted herself so much that she came home and died.

Even though, as time has passed, another bulldog named Oscar has been purchased to replace our long-lost friend, I will never forget her.

For I have never found anyone else to urinate in reverence to me.

 

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