Those 8-track drugs our parents had back in the seventies were so weak you had to borrow your cousin TeeTee’s VW Type 2 just to be able to leave your dealer’s house with enough to get you tingly. The one thing they did was tilt your perspective enough that you thought disco was more than smoke machines, sparkling props, and sex with insecure divorcĂ©es in azure eye shadow. Other than seedy-ass grass, most drugs from that decade didn’t make your sex drive plummet or your sperm black out, which facilitated the genesis of my generation. Thank you, party favors.
Even with an Astrodome full of uppers, I wasn’t about to make it to this screening. I wasn’t yet a zygote. Not the faintest trace of me on God’s breath.
[via Waxin’ & Milkin’]