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I’ve got tons of ramblings on my computer and in notebooks that I wrote while traveling and they are usually bat shit crazy. I just found this one that I wrote after a trip to Paris with a childhood friend when I was studying abroad in Sweden. It’s weird and it made me laugh so I had to post it. I also had to edit it because I may have written it drunk….who knows…it’s called “Crack Addict”…so probably.

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I’ll just say it.

My friend has a horrible crack problem.

I’ve kept quiet for far too long and it is time to tell the world so that this problem will be brought to light and she might just seek help. I have known this girl since we were sloshing around in the womb and yet I didn’t know about this body degenrating issue until a recent trip to Paris. The city of lights, romance, and apparently hidden crack dependencies.

We were laying in our tin can of a hostel room in the hot night unable to sleep and playing a game of “Connect the Celebrities”. This is a game that requires great intelectuall strength, mind you. Try and keep up as I explain. I say a celebrity name, like Johnny Depp, and then my opponent says a movie they were in. In this case, Edward Scissorhands, and then I must name another actor in that movie, in this case, Wyonna Ryder, and so it goes. Now, my dear traveling companion has a mind like a whip, but when it comes to the simple gluttony of media images she seems to have no brain cells for it. Due to the fact that the only actors she knows are…..Johnny Depp, I played the game with myself. But I digress.

We were playing the mind numbing game when I heard IT.

“CRACK!”

I jumped thinking a serial killer wielding a baugette had snapped my compaions leg and I was next. I yelped “What was that!?” and got ready to break out my tae-bo skills when she replied “Oh, I was just cracking my knees”. I am one that finds any function of the body sickening and can hardly even cut my fingernails without a shudder. Purposely making your bones crack was non-sensical to me.

“Well, cut it out! It’s disgusting!” I whined. She laughed and cracked her fingers and then HER TOES. I mean really, what kind of human is capable of such atrocities? I got down to business and said “Go to bed, I mean it” which coming from a five foot three, Β twelve year old looking girl really makes things happen…

Things finally went quiet and I started gently drifting to a lovely sleep when I heard what sounded like every bottle at a college party being broken at one time.

“Crack!!!”

“YOU ARE GOING TO GET ARTHRITIS!”, I screamed furtively as the manical laughter began.

And so my night with a crack addict went. The next day, on the urine-soaked-dirt-stained metro, I stared at my diseased friend wondering what she would do when she was old and couldn’t make a step without a bone cracking and all the village children would laugh and call her Old Lady Crack. She would hobble away crying but no one would hear because of all the cracking and creaking. It’s a tragic image. I decided something must be done and I will be the one to do it! I have set up a foundation called “Crack is Tack(y)”. I’m working on the name…anyways, all you have to do is send your donations to me and they will be used in the best way possible. I will spend the money on height surgery so i can stand, no tower, over this afflicted fiend and threaten her into stopping because really, it grosses me out and I just can’t concetrate on cutting up my cocaine.

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