Snowblind...
Crystal world with winter flowers,
Turn my days to frozen hours...
Lying snowblind in the sun,
Will my ice age ever come?
"My eyes are blind but I can see... the snowflakes glistening on the trees"
In all of my years as a hedonist, and routine drug user, I've never really understood the enduring appeal of cocaine. Even during my seven month relationship with blow a few years back when I was regularly snorting bumps off of my American Express card in dive bars and heavy metal shows, in the back of my mind, I wondered what the big deal was.
Cocaine is the second most popular recreational drug in the United States (behind marijuana you fucking stoners) and in the scene, it's everywhere... easily obtained and I know several people who use it on a regular basis. After being made illegal in 1914 by the
Harrison Narcotics Tax Act, cocaine regained popularity in the decadent, party all night disco days of the 70's. Back then, the allure of blow went beyond its stimulative effects. The cost, more expensive (though higher in quality) than it is now (3.5 grams in Atlanta would probably run you about $120 dollars) made cocaine a status drug. To be able to afford it, let alone a steady supply of it, meant you likely made (or had access to) a lot of money.
"Icicles are in my brain (cocaine)"
In the 70's and 80's, cocaine was mostly consumed by celebrities, athletes, stockbrokers and socialites. By the time coke made a comeback at the turn of the millennium, upper middle class college students were taking turns doing bumps in frathouse bathrooms. Now, at any bar or dance party across the country, you can regularly see packs of hipster girls and sorostitutes making steady trips to powder their noses.
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This is what happens when you spend so much of your life in dimly light bars while heavily under the influence of alcohol and/or controlled substances. When OSK told me my favorite sweat soaked, electro filled rager was turning three tonight, I nearly choked on my Ketel One and Sprite. Where the fuck has the time gone? I've been partying in Atlanta's 'underground' (if you can even call it that anymore) scene for nearly five years and Fuck Yesss continues to be one of my favorite events. Despite a sweltering, tightly packed room, there's a boundless, balls to the fucking wall energy that amazes me to this day.
There isn't a lot of posturing here; Fuck Yesss is all about getting fucked up, dancing your ass off and making out with random strangers you'll likely never see again. I expect, now that summer is in full swing, a healthy amount of all three. So join 'Mr. Thursday Night' Le Castle Vania, special guest from L.A. Paparazzi, residents Rrrump, a few of the OSK bloggers (like myself) and hundreds of fucking crazy kids for what will likely be one of the most ridiculous parties of the summer.
Here's to a night we probably won't remember...