I have an addictive personality. Booze, video games, gambling, blowing random strangers – if I like something, I’ll do it obsessively. So it was probably a bad thing that a co-worker introduced me to cocaine. I was attracted to it because I’m a bit of an introvert. Plop me down at a social function with people I don’t know and I’ll sit in the corner by myself like Tina Fey. But if I blow a few rails, I’ll chat with anyone. I found myself hanging out in after-hours clubs, having deep conversations with pimps and drug dealers and Armenian rapists. It even gave me the courage to fingerbang a hot hairdresser in the middle of a bar (mom would be proud). After meeting a friend for brunch one day (he ate, I shook uncontrollably) and a birthday party at the Saddle Ranch where I smoked weed, got drunk, popped Xanax and Ecstasy and did bumps in the bathroom stall, some concerned friends told me they thought I might need to slow things down. I laughed at them, then injured my balls on the mechanical bull. A week later, one of my best friends was arrested after a well-publicized incident. Seems he went temporarily insane, let himself into his boss’s house and proceeded to beat the shit out of him and taze him in the nuts. His boss? A famous actor/comedian. (Hint: He starred in Tommy Boy and he's not dead.)
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