Now Playing: Seven Dwarves
DID I EVER TELL YOU about my fairytale life? No I didn't.
I have, in the past, had an uncanny knack of spotting dropped drugs on the pavements of this metropolis.
One example: One afternoon I'm trudging along a dank and leaf-strewn alley. A tiny blue thing catches my eye.
Don't pick it up, I tell myself. It's only masking tape.
Of course I picked up said blue masking tape. It was actually burnt-wrapping of carrier bag. Began to unpick it. A little brown powder trickled out.
The next day, I felt like some more drugs, so I revisited the alley. Sure enough, waiting for me among the mingled sludge is another bag of gear.
In the fairytales, of course, it all happens in threes.
On the third day I was on my hands and knees for twenty minutes in the mud, scratting desperately for my free fix.
I never found it.
The moral of the story is right there, dear Readers.