Hi.

I have been gone for some time. I am back.

Where was I?

Kind of a long story, I suppose. ***SPOILER ALERT—even though everything that follows is completely true, it very closely parallels, and at some points is the exact same as, the ending plotline from the hit television show Breaking Bad. So here’s the gist of it.

As he became increasingly psychotic and morally bankrupt, I had no choice but to turn on my meth cooking partner. I’m dumb, and he’s smart, so naturally some things went very wrong. I was captured in the New Mexican desert by a gang of neo-Nazis who tortured me and forced me to make drugs for them in a secure compound from which there was no escape. I was, however, able to replace the active ingredient in meth with an industrial grade laxative. The only thing that kept me going all those months was the solace that tweekers the Southwest over were experiencing historic bouts of bowl-vacating pestilence.

Then I escaped and came back here, where I now sit and type.

I’ve Got My Meth Lab Up And Running

Wow. Breaking Bad. What a fantastic show—riveting plot lines, excellent writing, and, most of all, educational. If a middle-aged high school teacher can straddle family life, cancer, and a fledgling career as a meth cook, imagine how high I can fly. Healthy, no kids, and a pretty good idea of how to run an elaborate smack empire thanks to HBO’s The Wire.

Oh, the places I’ll go!

That’s why I started a meth lab right here in my apartment.*(**)

Of course, they never come right out and give an exact recipe on BB. And Googling ‘how to cook meth’ is the mark of a fool. Here’s how I do it: whenever I’m at the grocery store, I head to the cleaning supply aisle, and load up my cart with anything that says ‘toxic,’ ‘avoid contact with skin,’ etc. That’s how you know it’s good. Then you head over to the pharmacy, and get your cough medicines, lubes, protein powders.

I bring all this home, toss it in a pot, and simmer. Yes, it gets noxious. It’s supposed to. I know I’ve got tweaker’s gold when the fumes infiltrate my nostrils, and I pass out, waking up hours, sometime even days later, soaked in urine and sweat.

Then I pour some pineapple juice in for a vitamin C boost, squirt in liberal amounts of model airplane glue to aid coagulation, and presto, meth, or something similar. It will destroy your insides, that’s all you need to know. Come get some.

*Law enforcement officials read: I’m joking.

**Law enforcement officials don’t read: I’m not kidding. Come, buy my meth.