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Crystal Lavoie |
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I Don't Smoke, I Just Get Nervous. We met an old, fat guy at the bar who asked us if we knew who Andrew Dice Clay was - and when we said we did, he told us he was better than him. And he wasn't, really, but he waved around unlit cigarettes because "he didn't smoke, just got nervous," and his dick jokes proved to be mildly amusing, so we listened. This guy, who called himself Uncle Joe, also told us that Jamaica is much nicer than Vancouver, and that Jamaican girls have blue pussies. He couldn't believe we hadn't heard of him. Later, Uncle Joe was dragged out of the bar by his nephew and the bartender, yelling as he was wrestled out. An Ex-Junky's View of Purity My friend Ashley left home at fourteen, went cross-country and took up heroin. Now she smokes American Spirits, drinks gallons of water and swears off meat. She wants to purify her body. But last summer, at parties, Ashley would bust in - chug tequila and dance around furniture. One time at Gilly's she was dancing with the giant M&M man and her boob popped out. Ashley told him he was threatening her womanhood. She ran out of cigarettes the day after Gilly's party and I offered her a Camel Light but she said it had too many chemicals. A few weeks later, she drove her car into the front window of 7-11, stone sober. |