CONTEST: Win a Whole Pack of ‘I Lost Me to Meth’ Coasters!

This treasure will go to the deliverer of the best meth-related anecdote in the comments section below. Bonus points if it’s Mission-related too, duh. Good luck!

Prize donated by Aaron and Katie of Beauty Bar. Click pic to make big.

More meth on Mission Mission.


10 thoughts on “CONTEST: Win a Whole Pack of ‘I Lost Me to Meth’ Coasters!”

  1. She was on the corner wearing a purple tank top that came down mid-thigh. The rush-hour traffic swelled onto the street buzzing by her as she moved to her own meth-tweaking beats. I was steadily approaching her, having just left an angry day of work, digging through the messenger bag that was slung across my torso. I intermediately looked up at her as I was getting out my sunglasses. She tracked my advance.

    Through the tank straps I could make out sagging sweet potato breasts resting on top of her drooping belly. I could see in between her ribs. Her feet were bare. Obvious dark cracks crawled up her heels to her ankles. The legs caught the sunlight in patches all the way up to where the tank top ended, reveling a highway of needle marks. She smiled a toothless grin, foam forming at the corners of her mouth, where large scabs had rooted themselves.

    I could smell the urine of dozens of people on the spring air. My mind raced with questions: How can you stand there barefoot in all this filth? Do your marks itch? How long have you been a junkie? What do you charge for a 50/50?

    Tugging down at the bottom of her top, she started letting out a soft whine. It grew more guttural as she flipped up her tank top reveling that she wasn’t wearing panties. I was now to the side of her waiting for the crosswalk light to change. I couldn’t help but look back over to her. She pulled up the swag of abdomen flesh reveling her patched dirty-blond pubic hair.

    I let out a loud laugh and turn the brilliant kind of red reserved for Chinese New Year parades. The green man appeared on the pole across the street. I leapt off the curb, placed my hand over my mouth and laughed for another fifty feet. I fumbled for my cell phone and called the first number on speed dial to share the immediacy of this site. It was my mom’s voicemail. I left her a message saying, “Hey you’ll never believe what I just saw. A tweaker beaver in the Mission! Call me.”

  2. I was seeing a meth dealer who also happened to have a thing for collecting mannequins and wedding gowns. While alone in the apartment one day there was a knocking on the door. Since I was a ‘bit’ tweaked, I naturally concluded that it was a cop. That one cop soon became several. Those cops soon became the FBI, and so on. You get the idea. I hastily discarded my clothes.

    And then I spent close to twenty hours huddled naked under a wedding dress, holding a mannequin’s legs and trying to suppress my crying as much as possible, fearful that the dogs would tear me apart. I was, of course, terrified about the legal repercussions, but my real fear was what fate would befall me should anything happen to those wedding gowns.

    Fortunately, however, my plan worked, and the FBI eventually left.

  3. Just color an eyepatch on the meth model in the “I love me to meth” ad. Then black out the “to”

    and you’ll have a priate that says “I Lost Me Meth”

  4. Just color an eyepatch on the meth model in the “I lost me to meth” ad. Then black out the “to”

    and you’ll have a priate that says “I Lost Me Meth”

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