I used to pick up prostitutes and smoke crack. This was years ago mind you, and I didn't do it every day, but like once a month or two. I engaged in this behavior mainly because I was bored with life and wanted some type of excitement, believe it or not. I loved the rush of driving around, making contact, engaging in a short question and answer period to prove I'm not a cop and then asking if they knew of a connection. We'd typically end up smoking crack in my car or at their hotel room. I never had sex with these women, they were just an easy way to find drugs. I always shared with them, and even gave them money as a "finders fee." I stopped smoking crack years ago once I got a girlfriend. We eventually got married and were together for 8 years… until about 7 months ago, when she asked for a divorce. For the past 6 months, I've been drinking too much, smoking too much weed and essentially just trying to numb myself. Last night, on my way home from a friend's house, I decided to cruise Chinatown. I easily found a dealer and bought what I thought was a rock. I bought a glass tube (with the rose), copper pads at my local mini mart and I rushed home to get high. After fashioning my pipe, I anticipated a long forgotten high and lit my lighter… taking a huge hit, I soon realized that I had been burned. The dealer sold me a big piece of what tasted like dried Elmer's glue. I exhaled a big puff of nasty semi-black smoke and a cough and thought to myself, "Never again... "