As a reformed substance abuser, I take a keen interest in developments in the area of policing and legislating the use of illegal drugs and chemical enhancers. Well, I say reformed; I'm down to two tubs of Copydex a day which might sound like a lot to you, but is a *very* long way from the apogee of my addiction when I was maintaining a 5 figure-per-day industrial strength adhesive habit. You'd only need to have looked at my Homebase customer loyalty points to realise that I was in a seriously bad way. So, I'm obviously as shocked and surprised by today's announcement of the new drug classification recommendations as anyone. It's a complicated business alright, and one's sympathy goes out to the young people of today as they try to work their way through the minefield of advice and proscription, often conflicting and heavily couched in judgemental morality, as they try to decide the best way for them to get completely off their mash with the pittance they have left over from their jobseeker's allowance now that they're having to stump up all that extra cash to make up for the housing benefit cuts being imposed on them to bail out the banking sector that nearly brought the global economy to a point of total anarchy.
So, we here at Swipe Towers have gone through the new classifications with a fine tooth comb - not to mention a couple of rolled up twenties - so that our readers will know the cheapest and the safest way to get seriously fucked up by mind-altering substances. The drugs are listed in class order, with a helpful street value and easy to understand illustration of their respective strengths and harmful side-effects.
Class A
Heroin.
Strength/Side effects:
Not as bad for you as you might think, but using will probably subject the individual to quite unnecessary exposure to the songs of Lou Reed and the Velvet Underground. Not quite as bad for you as a prolonged arm-wrestle with Betty Stove, but has a bit more of a nip to it than the average street dose of Aruldite.
Street value:
Currently you can pick up a fairly useful sachet for about 17p, but if you're living in a rural area, it will cost you about a tenner each way to get to your dealer and back so you might want to stick with a litre bottle of Diamond White from the offy round the corner and add a bit of sherbet dip to get the pleasant bubbling-in-the-petri-dish effect of proper smack.
Cocaine:
Strength/Side effects.
Surprisingly, coke is almost completely harmless - if you're not too worried about losing the bit of your nose between the two nostrils and being forced onto an endless treadmill of reality TV shows while you wait for the platic surgery replacement to knit together so you can go back to being in Eastenders.
Street value:
Currently being given away with the Observer newspaper now that they've run out of cheap DVDs of films you've already seen a hundred and one times. Get in quick though; rumours of an impending visit to Columbia by football legend Diego Maradona may see prices set to soar in the new year.
Class B:
Cannabis.
Strength/Side effects.
Not as potent as the stuff that blew a million minds in the 70s. Most deals today are now padded out with common or garden herbs such as Oregano, Thyme and Tarragon. Not for those who desire a proper 'hit' after a nice meal and a glass of wine; but probably not a bad idea to sprinkle a bit on your rocket and parmesan salad if you want to liven up the entrees at your next tupperware party.
Street value:
About 80p a go in my local Waitrose. They also do handy top up packs so you can keep re-using the nice little jar and do your bit to save the planet.
Alcohol
Strength/Side effects.
The big shock of the current review. Alcohol, consumed irresponsibly, is more harmful for you than most of the class A and B chemicals, a fact which will certainly have a marked influence on policy in the months ahead - and lead to a lot of people giving up drugs to get blotto mixing cheap supermarket plonk and spirits instead. Not quite as dangerous as rollerskaing across Piccadilly Circus with a blindfold on, whistling Chesney Hawkes' 'I am the one and only', but booze is still pretty lethal when consumed in large quantities. Dosage is also a serious contributing factor to the harmful effects of drinking. The calorific content alone of bitter shandy consumed in sufficient quantities to have the slightest effect on the average person is enough to put you in hospital, never mind the price of purchasing 500 crates of the stuff and getting it back from the cash and carry.
Street value:
Varies; a typical meths based cocktail can keep you going for several nights and you'll probably still have change left over from a twenty for a packet of pork scratchings. Commercially available beverages tend to be more pricey so unless you can dare to risk a visit to the local off license where you have as much chance of being stabbed by the local druggies as you do of getting liver damage, you're probably better off buying a cheap bicycle and sticking with smack. The choice is yours...
xxx
Bob
Showing posts with label Drucks-Jimmy-Drucks. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Drucks-Jimmy-Drucks. Show all posts
Monday, 1 November 2010
Tuesday, 27 July 2010
California Demons...
Los Angeles. 1975. Curtains drawn at midday, Kraftwerk's 'Autobahn' plays quietly on the stereo as the room fills with the heady aroma of burning incense. The walls and floors of my luxurious apartment are bedecked with daubs of paint. Frantically scrawled symbols and arcane numerals designed to ward off evil spirits cover every available surface. They're not working. Tables shake, floorboards moan and impishly fitful light flits from candles that sigh and moan with the desolate grief of a million trapped souls. I'm so scared, so lonely; so frazzled I can barely face the few shorts steps out into the kitchen to put another vial of urine in the fridge.
Demons hate wee. Or so I'm told - that's why they're always trying to steal it, you see. It contains the essence of your soul, or so I'd read, so obviously you don't want that falling into the hands of some grubby little gremlin. Peppers don't agree with them either, - you know, red, green, yellow; those sort of peppers - so I've been stuffing myself with them too. Mind you, I'm not sure they agree with me either. They play havoc with your guts. In fact, last week I could barely keep my first bag of Aruldite down, my stomach was heaving so miserably from the pure cellulose diet. Sometimes I think it's almost worth being one of Lucifer's eternal concubines if it would mean a night off the can and no more fizzing and wheezing echoing around the bathroom as my poor, knotted intestines manfully attempt to break down the lethal stew of roughage-heavy vegetables and industrial strength adhesives on which I've been living for the past 6 months. Dark days.
But then a very good friend of mine took me to one side and said, Bob, take a look at yourself in the mirror. No, face on, you're like Flat Stanley from the sides. Come on man, pull yourself together.' And that's what I did. Out with the wee and in with the signed collection of Hermann Goering photos and the well known Berlin Transvestite with the big bazoombkas. And no more raw peppers. No, you'll find they're much more nutritious stuffed with a few button mushrooms, cherry tomatoes and some finely chopped garlic. Just drizzle that little lot with some extra virgin olive oil and roast in the oven for 25 minutes on a medium heat.
I've probably forgotten more than I could ever remember about my LA nadir. I get the odd flashback now and then, of course, but it's all behind me now, really. Next came my dramatic renaissance in Berlin and the rest, as they say, is history. But they were, for a while, very bad times indeed. Still, could have been worse, I suppose. At least I never made a record with Lulu...
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Demons hate wee. Or so I'm told - that's why they're always trying to steal it, you see. It contains the essence of your soul, or so I'd read, so obviously you don't want that falling into the hands of some grubby little gremlin. Peppers don't agree with them either, - you know, red, green, yellow; those sort of peppers - so I've been stuffing myself with them too. Mind you, I'm not sure they agree with me either. They play havoc with your guts. In fact, last week I could barely keep my first bag of Aruldite down, my stomach was heaving so miserably from the pure cellulose diet. Sometimes I think it's almost worth being one of Lucifer's eternal concubines if it would mean a night off the can and no more fizzing and wheezing echoing around the bathroom as my poor, knotted intestines manfully attempt to break down the lethal stew of roughage-heavy vegetables and industrial strength adhesives on which I've been living for the past 6 months. Dark days.
But then a very good friend of mine took me to one side and said, Bob, take a look at yourself in the mirror. No, face on, you're like Flat Stanley from the sides. Come on man, pull yourself together.' And that's what I did. Out with the wee and in with the signed collection of Hermann Goering photos and the well known Berlin Transvestite with the big bazoombkas. And no more raw peppers. No, you'll find they're much more nutritious stuffed with a few button mushrooms, cherry tomatoes and some finely chopped garlic. Just drizzle that little lot with some extra virgin olive oil and roast in the oven for 25 minutes on a medium heat.
I've probably forgotten more than I could ever remember about my LA nadir. I get the odd flashback now and then, of course, but it's all behind me now, really. Next came my dramatic renaissance in Berlin and the rest, as they say, is history. But they were, for a while, very bad times indeed. Still, could have been worse, I suppose. At least I never made a record with Lulu...
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Friday, 30 May 2008
Porridge...
"...Robert Algernon Runciple Dayglo Wetherspoon Wilson Keppel and Betty Swipe....you are an habitual solvent and rodent abuser who treats arrest as an occupational hazard and imprisonment in the same, cazual manner. I therefore sentence you to the maximum term allowed for these crimes...."
And with that, they led me away to be detained at Her Majesty's Pleasure, a custodial sentence, an open door and 3 slumbering Group 4 security officers now standing bewteen me and my former gay libertine existence. So humiliating - and, ultimately, so avoidable! If the British National Formulary would only start adding entries for home improvement adhesives, I'd have known that possession of Evostick beyond that adjudged to be for reasonable personal usage was subject to suspicion of drug trafficing! Such a waste too - those three haulage trucks full would have seen me through until at least August Bank Holiday....
Still, things are never as black as they're painted. Prison's changed beyond recognition since I was last inside (...transporting a minor across a State line without a license while dressed in a Pierrot costume, sky high on grouting compound, 1976...) There's a PC in every cell, for one thing - which is how I'm able to post this - not to mention the masseuse (....oooh, such cold hands Brenda....can't you do something to warm them up. Oh, sorry *Brendan*, I thought you had big mitts for a lassie...I'll stick with the Ayurvedic throat rub, thanks all the same...) There's even a pro-celebrity greased wrestling tournament arranged for next month - *can't* *wait* to see Anthony Worral Thompson try to wriggle out of one of Brian Blessed's over arm head locks...
They're a good bunch in here too. I'm sharing a cell with a chap called Lennie Godber; a gentle, lively-minded, adenoidal Brummie lad who's in for breaking and entry with aggravated assault - I've no idea how he ended up in prison, though. Probably drugs. That's what most of us are here for. That probably explains why there are so many floating around here. I mean, I've actually been better suppied in here than I was on the outside. A good job too as I was unsuccessful in my attempts to smuggle in my own secret stash, secreted in my shoes. I don't know how these guys manage to get their deals past the stringent security checks. Mind you, most of them probably aren't wearing open-toed slingbacks like me...
And the other good news is that Lord Longford has taken up the case on my behalf - or was it Long Lordford? I always get those two confused. Anyway, he says that he'll fight all the way up to the European Court of Human Rights in the Hague, if need be. Besides, even if my appeal fails, he seems to think that, with good behaviour, I could be out by 2032 - who knows? With bad behaviour, it might be even sooner....
L.U.V. on y'all,
Bob
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And with that, they led me away to be detained at Her Majesty's Pleasure, a custodial sentence, an open door and 3 slumbering Group 4 security officers now standing bewteen me and my former gay libertine existence. So humiliating - and, ultimately, so avoidable! If the British National Formulary would only start adding entries for home improvement adhesives, I'd have known that possession of Evostick beyond that adjudged to be for reasonable personal usage was subject to suspicion of drug trafficing! Such a waste too - those three haulage trucks full would have seen me through until at least August Bank Holiday....
Still, things are never as black as they're painted. Prison's changed beyond recognition since I was last inside (...transporting a minor across a State line without a license while dressed in a Pierrot costume, sky high on grouting compound, 1976...) There's a PC in every cell, for one thing - which is how I'm able to post this - not to mention the masseuse (....oooh, such cold hands Brenda....can't you do something to warm them up. Oh, sorry *Brendan*, I thought you had big mitts for a lassie...I'll stick with the Ayurvedic throat rub, thanks all the same...) There's even a pro-celebrity greased wrestling tournament arranged for next month - *can't* *wait* to see Anthony Worral Thompson try to wriggle out of one of Brian Blessed's over arm head locks...
They're a good bunch in here too. I'm sharing a cell with a chap called Lennie Godber; a gentle, lively-minded, adenoidal Brummie lad who's in for breaking and entry with aggravated assault - I've no idea how he ended up in prison, though. Probably drugs. That's what most of us are here for. That probably explains why there are so many floating around here. I mean, I've actually been better suppied in here than I was on the outside. A good job too as I was unsuccessful in my attempts to smuggle in my own secret stash, secreted in my shoes. I don't know how these guys manage to get their deals past the stringent security checks. Mind you, most of them probably aren't wearing open-toed slingbacks like me...
And the other good news is that Lord Longford has taken up the case on my behalf - or was it Long Lordford? I always get those two confused. Anyway, he says that he'll fight all the way up to the European Court of Human Rights in the Hague, if need be. Besides, even if my appeal fails, he seems to think that, with good behaviour, I could be out by 2032 - who knows? With bad behaviour, it might be even sooner....
L.U.V. on y'all,
Bob
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Monday, 12 May 2008
Drugs...
It saddens me, if I'm honest, when I see yet another young pop artiste falling into the time-honoured pitfalls of the entertainment industry. Not a day passes by without another glaring headline screaming out from one of the red-tops; "Amy's Fresh Shocker - exclusive", or "My Day of Shame, by Cell-Bound Winehouse". Now, personally, I didn't think Back to Black was that bad, but I'm sure she herself would agree that it would have been even an better platter if young Amy had been able to keep her nose out of the Evo-stick tub long enough to do a few final drop-ins on the vocal tracks.
And don't get me started on Pete Doherty. My life, have I've tried! I even tracked him down and had a word with him myself - my God, prison visiting hours drag, don't they? They never seemed that long when I was on the other side of the table. Anyway, after I'd snuck the cake with a file in it past security and spent half an hour trying to offload several grams of barbiturates out of the sole of my stack heeled boots without attracting the attention of the prison guards (you try doing *that* in a gold lame body stocking and matching cape, buster...), I told him all about my own drug hell in the 1970s.
You see, at one point there wasn't a hardware store within a five mile radius of Sigma Sound studio that hadn't seen its shelves completely cleared of its entire stock of adhesives. Sometimes I have to confess, I was so desperate for a hit that I I'd even try a quick fix of polyfilla - yes, I know. It doesn't fill me with any pride, I can tell you. And worse - it just doesn't have the hold of a proper fixative. Oh, I'm completely clean now, of course - apart from the odd grouting flashback and the fact that, on a blustery day, I can still seal an envelope without my tongue from 100 metres away. *That's* an addiction, sonny. But will he listen? Still, youth, as they say, is wasted on the young; which is probably why old letches like me can get away with it, I suppose. "Of course I can help you with your exams Eliza - why, I can still remember the day I took *my* 11-plus. Which reminds me, I must give old Gaz Glitter a buzz - he still has a large assortment of my Bunty Annuals. He's due out in twenty years....
Must dash - Grange Hill's just about to start.
L.U.V. on y'all,
Bob
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And don't get me started on Pete Doherty. My life, have I've tried! I even tracked him down and had a word with him myself - my God, prison visiting hours drag, don't they? They never seemed that long when I was on the other side of the table. Anyway, after I'd snuck the cake with a file in it past security and spent half an hour trying to offload several grams of barbiturates out of the sole of my stack heeled boots without attracting the attention of the prison guards (you try doing *that* in a gold lame body stocking and matching cape, buster...), I told him all about my own drug hell in the 1970s.
You see, at one point there wasn't a hardware store within a five mile radius of Sigma Sound studio that hadn't seen its shelves completely cleared of its entire stock of adhesives. Sometimes I have to confess, I was so desperate for a hit that I I'd even try a quick fix of polyfilla - yes, I know. It doesn't fill me with any pride, I can tell you. And worse - it just doesn't have the hold of a proper fixative. Oh, I'm completely clean now, of course - apart from the odd grouting flashback and the fact that, on a blustery day, I can still seal an envelope without my tongue from 100 metres away. *That's* an addiction, sonny. But will he listen? Still, youth, as they say, is wasted on the young; which is probably why old letches like me can get away with it, I suppose. "Of course I can help you with your exams Eliza - why, I can still remember the day I took *my* 11-plus. Which reminds me, I must give old Gaz Glitter a buzz - he still has a large assortment of my Bunty Annuals. He's due out in twenty years....
Must dash - Grange Hill's just about to start.
L.U.V. on y'all,
Bob
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Saturday, 31 March 2007
Bobcast #33 ("It's the Drucks, Jimmy, Drucks!!)...
...that's right - load up your bongs, roll up those twenties. Sorted for E's and Whizz?? OK, then put your feet up, tune in, turn on, drop out to the crazy out there sounds of Bobcast #33...
Right, Im off to put the kettle on..
L.U.V. on y'all,
Bob
Bobcasts now available at iTunes!!
Visit me in MunterSpace - 10,000 Goth Girls Splattered in Feck Blood Can't be Wrong!!!!!!!!
Watch Bob's promos on Youtube
Listen to Bob's songs at indie911.com!
Listen to Bob's songs at GarageBand.com!
Listen to Bobcasts here!
© 2007 Swipe Enterprises
Right, Im off to put the kettle on..
L.U.V. on y'all,
Bob
Bobcasts now available at iTunes!!
Visit me in MunterSpace - 10,000 Goth Girls Splattered in Feck Blood Can't be Wrong!!!!!!!!
Watch Bob's promos on Youtube
Listen to Bob's songs at indie911.com!
Listen to Bob's songs at GarageBand.com!
Listen to Bobcasts here!
© 2007 Swipe Enterprises
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