Wednesday, August 22, 2007


I’m not feeling light-hearted today.

I was perusing news sites today. I came across an older article on meth use in the Ozarks.

This article reminded me of these pictures.

Dens of iniquity are in my rural Ozark Mountains. Why can’t we just run ‘shine like our grandfathers? A little weed maybe? How do people get to a point where they poison their bodies willingly with battery acid and fekkin' Drano? How do they slip into such despair and addiction they bring their children with them?

My sister-in-law did respite foster care for a couple of years before she just couldn’t take it anymore. She would get children in the middle of the night, rescued from their abusive ‘homes’. The stories would horrify you.

There was a gal a year or so ago that worked at our local Price Cutter. I don’t know if they do drug screenings or not, but she looked the part of a meth-head. Her face was a mass of picked-at sores, was missing several teeth, emaciated. She could have been 20 or 60.

I jumped to conclusions of course. Fair of me? No, but I did nonetheless. People always assume that drugs are easier to get in the city. Oooh, the evils of big city crime. Drugs! Rape! Gangs!


I could walk out my door right now and find a cook in 15 minutes. I don’t live in the city. I live in the country where it’s ‘safe.’

…safe me arse.

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