It's story time, kids

I apparently have a lot on my mind today, so I'm just going to keep writing till I can't think anymore. Oblivion by blog.

One summer my best friend Emily and I went to Atlantic City with her mom and aunt, and we spent the night gambling away in a casino. We ended up in a dive bar and were approached by two Mafia looking guys. They bought us some drinks, and then introduced the fact that they had a pound of coke they were looking to share. Awesome! So we hoped into their town car (complete with driver) and headed off the their yacht in the Trump marina. Yeah, I know, Mafia.

Emily went down below deck with one guy and (she says) talked all night. Me, being the addict I am, stayed above deck drinking with the other dude, and doing all the coke I could possibly snort. Like, really. I "woke up" sitting in the chair talking about God knows what, and looked to see that 2/3 of the coke was gone. I had apparently blacked out till sunrise.

Wait, why am I lying on my blog? Oh yeah, Adam, don't look. I woke up with the dude going down on me. I don't know how he got there, but thank God I didn't have sex with him.

I went below and got Emily, and she grabbed the rest of the coke on our way out. Then I fell off the boat onto the dock. My knee was bleeding, and I was laughing my ass off, but she didn't care. "We have to get back!" She was all worried that her mom would be mad, but I figured there was no use hurrying. Either they knew we didn't come home last night, or they'd know soon enough.

Anyway, we did the rest of the coke the next week. It's amazing I didn't have a heart attack that night, or overdose again. This was in college, and I wasn't on any medication then, so no drug interactions, but still. That would have been awful. I bet those guys would have just thrown my ass overboard and left. Another night I should have been dead or raped. Another night I was incredibly lucky. Or blessed, as it might be.