SLN readers are a pretty savvy bunch, so I’m sure all of you are veritable dark web experts at this point. Well, recently I’ve been digging real deep into the archives of the pre-Bitcoin version of infamous drug clearinghouse Silk Road, before it got all commercialized and popular. It used to be a really thoughtful place where people wouldn’t just sell drugs, they’d discuss and catalog their experiences with them. The trip report archive was wiped long before the rest of it when they rebranded and focused on Bitcoin transactions, sadly, but I was able to snag a couple of incomplete mirrors by trading some giraffe vore .mkvs to my resourceful Russian friend Sergei. Presented here are three choice finds from my trawling.
Drug & Dosage: “Goblin mints,” four tablets
Okay, so let me preface this with, I am normally a pretty vanilla dude. Some weed, some coke on fridays with the boys at the office, a couple of wine coolers and some heroin with sunday brunch, you know, pretty standard stuff, right? I am not adventurous, is what I am saying. I like to keep things routine and moderate. So, believe me when I say that I was a little apprehensive at first, getting handed a Tic-Tac container full of weird forest green pills at a house party. This guy says, “you’ve gotta try this, bro, it’s the latest thing!” I mean, if it’s the latest thing, why not, right? So I’m like okay I’ll give these a shot. BIG MISTAKE. Blacked out fuckin immediately, and I swear to god I came to literally a fuckin’ month later. A MONTH. And this was apparently a really productive month for me, because I am not in my apartment, or even my home fucking city. I am on a yacht off the coast of Spain with a woman our (consensual, he said) sex slave tells me is my wife. He speaks fluent English, but she…. does not. Nothin’ but Castilian Spanish, and she’s acting surprised that I can’t understand her! I guess I must’ve learned to speak it during that blacked-out month, because I still find myself dropping into vulgar Castilian Spanish whenever a soccer game doesn’t go my way. Can’t for the life of me speak it at any other time, though.
Drug & Dosage: A variety of unidentified “research chemicals” from university science lab, between 30 and 50 mL each
Listen. My first year of grad school was rough. My mother had just died thousands of miles away, my girlfriend decided that she was, in fact, not bisexual after all and ran off to marry her high school sweetheart back in Tennessee, and my cat never really forgave me for stepping on his tail the preceding winter. I’m not making excuses, here, really, I’m just trying to provide some perspective. Some context for why I started grabbing expired shit from the 1970s with faded labels off the shelves in the old science building and just fuckin injecting them into my eyeballs like I didn’t care if I lived or died. Because I didn’t. My cat sure as shit didn’t, and once you’ve lost that you’ve REALLY lost everything.
Anyway. So some of this shit was sort of equivalent to getting drunk, some of it was a little more interesting, some of it was responsible for eighteen paintings in one night that are currently fetching exorbitant prices at a gallery in Brooklyn. It was wild and wacky stuff. Grad school means teaching, and teaching means long nights grading papers, and that gets really boring if you aren’t squirting research chemicals into your tear ducts. My student evaluations came back mediocre and unremarkable, so who gives a fuck, in the end? NOT I. And not my fucking goddamn ungrateful piece of shit cat either. I still have him, for some reason, by the way. He’s healthy as a horse, turns 17 this year, and still hasn’t forgiven me for that time I stepped on his tail.
Drug & Dosage: Oregano/allspice mixture with “secret ingredient,” used as dry rub on a half-pound of grilled flatiron steak
[The text is a piece of ASCII art that forms the sentence “THERE WILL BE NO REGRETS WHEN THE WORMS COME” in unnecessarily large letters.]