Cocaine Quotes

“If I have a near-beer, I’m near beer. And if I’m near beer, I’m close to tequila. And if I’m close to tequila, I’m adjacent to cocaine.”
― Craig Ferguson

“Happiness lies within one's self, and the way to dig it out is cocaine.”
― Aleister Crowley, Diary of a Drug Fiend

“It's not the side-effects of the cocaine - I'm thinking that it must be love.

It's too late to be grateful,
It's too late to be hateful,
It's too late to be late again,
The European canon is here.

- Station to Station”
― David Bowie

“Everywhere I looked, demons of the future [were] on the battlegrounds of one’s emotional plane.”
― David Bowie

“Of course," agreed Basil, "if you read it carelessly, and act on it rashly, with the blind faith of a fanatic; it might very well lead to trouble. But nature is full of devices for eliminating anything that cannot master its environment. The words 'to worship me' are all-important. The only excuse for using a drug of any sort, whether it's quinine or Epsom-salt, is to assist nature to overcome some obstacle to her proper functions. The danger of the so-called habit-forming drugs is that they fool you into trying to dodge the toil essential to spiritual and intellectual development. But they are not simply man-traps. There is nothing in nature which cannot be used for our benefit, and it is up to us to use it wisely. Now, in the work you have been doing in the last week, heroin might have helped you to concentrate your mind, and cocaine to overcome the effects of fatigue. And the reason you did not use them was that a burnt child dreads fire. We had the same trouble with teaching Hermes and Dionysus to swim. They found themselves in danger of being drowned and thought the best way was to avoid going near the water. But that didn't help them to use their natural faculties to the best advantage, so I made them confront the sea again and again, until they decided that the best way to avoid drowning was to learn how to deal with oceans in every detail. It sounds pretty obvious when you put it like that, yet while every one agrees with me about the swimming, I am howled down on all sides when I apply the same principles to the use of drugs.”
― Aleister Crowley, Diary of a Drug Fiend

“There’s Ambien-in-alcohol weird and then there’s Ambien-mistaken-for-cocaine weird.”
― Tanya Thompson, Red Russia

“I, the unfortunate Doctor Polyakov, who became addicted to morphine in February of this year, warn anyone who may suffer the same fate not to attempt to replace morphine with cocaine. Cocaine is a most foul and insidious poison. Yesterday Anna barely managed to revive me with camphor injections and today I am half dead.”
― Mikhail Bulgakov, Morphine

“The division seems rather unfair," I remarked. "You have done
all the work in this business. I get a wife out of it, Jones gets
the credit, pray what remains for you?"
"For me," said Sherlock Holmes, "there still remains the
cocaine-bottle." And he stretched his long white hand up for
it.”
― Arthur Conan Doyle, The Sign of Four

“This original version of Coca-Cola contained a small amount of coca extract and therefore a trace of cocaine. (It was eliminated early in the twentieth century, though other extracts derived from coca leaves remain part of the drink to this day.) Its creation was not the accidental concoction of an amateur experimenting in his garden, but the deliberate and painstaking culmination of months of work by an experienced maker of quack remedies.”
― Tom Standage, A History of the World in 6 Glasses

“Let these men sing out their songs,
they've been walking all day long,
all their fortune's spent and gone...
silver dollar in the subway station;
quarters for the papers for the jobs.”
― Roman Payne

“I didn't recognize it as such then, because I was only thirteen years old, but later I found it a bit ironic that my first time seeing a woman in all her form and glory and saggy drug-tainted tits, arrived at the same exact time as my first introduction to death.”
― Dave Matthes, Paradise City

“I have done coke off the porcelain backs of public bathroom toilets, but mirrored trays lend some faux class to inhaling cartilage-eating drugs up your nose. The idea becomes alluring and a little more acceptable when mirrored trays are involved. "Excuse me, sir.. I will have some of that high class cocaine".”
― Helen Knott, Becoming a Matriarch: A Memoir

“I was wondering if I was the only one,
who still wanted to grow and succeed,
the only one who still believed in it all,
ultimately, in Tomas and in Spain?”
― Tomas Adam Nyapi, BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA

“No one is really evil, they are just led astray by ignorance.” – Buddha
Who said that Buddha was always right or that the percentage of psychopaths was around the same figures in his time as it is in today's society, in Spain? – Tomas Adam Nyapi”
― Tomas Adam Nyapi, BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA

“See I grew pessimistic. Unsure if reading the book would make any difference. For her. For the Justice. To prevail. Law. Order.

Females like psychopaths and criminals. Fairy tales and vampires. Bad guys. Not the good guys. They are attracted to the bad guys. Using good guys. „Being smarter.” Until: caught.
They enjoy using and hurting good people. It is not only their way of living. Killing.
They have no inner control or conscience influenced by society. They allow themselves to be happy without any restraint, associating with bad people and engaging in unlawful activities.

Bad people / Psychopath females
Them and their owners.


The Sin. The Crime. The Knowledge. The Secret. The Wisdom. The Snake. The Apple. Adam.
Paradise. Hell.
This is how they often end up in jail or dead, or occasionally getting splashed with acid, riding wheelchairs, usually due to their involvement with drug-dealing boyfriends. Getting: „surprised.”
No one gets „acid” in his/her face for no reason. This is an honest book.

Do you want me to say a name, an example or add a list?

„Say her name.” ... ?

OKAY.

I will not add any other examples, or names, to the list, as I choose to mention, point out the story of: Breonna Taylor as both the beginning and end of the list. I do not want to spend time searching for more instances, ladies, as my intention is not to defend or advocate for individuals who have engaged in wrongdoing, regardless of their gender. I am not trying to save the lives of criminals anymore. I have no girlfriend/abuser. To save. From herself.
I don't believe it is productive to compile a list of examples or names of females who were involved in criminal activities or found themselves in dangerous situations. Beds. Doing so would be a futile use of time.


„The problem is, that women, they have/got all the pussies.” – Serbian proverb


Perhaps the police used excessive force. Perhaps. Alright. I don't doubt it. I don't agree either.
It was a dangerous guy. Warrants. Danger. Dangerous situation. Lawful enter or not. ...

These bodycam videos don't show you the level of adrenaline you have in such situations. "Kill or be killed." The officers want to get home tonight as well to see their loved ones. I wouldn't call that "trigger-happy." But I think it fits to call the criminals: cowardly. Using live body shield: their girlfriends. In general. Hiding. Behind girls.

Just like: Adam Maraudin. And so many more.”
― Tomas Adam Nyapi, BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA

“Just like Sabrina, you can't reason with Adam. Some things are beyond their comprehension. You can only teach someone so much. Just like Sabrina, Adam has his own expectations and ideas; expecting Spain to bend to meet them.
While Sabrina and Adam may feel more at home being able to speak American English and Hebrew respectively, it is not the norm by any means in Spain.”
― Tomas Adam Nyapi, BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA

“It was becoming increasingly obvious that Adam had no understanding of business etiquette, business culture, or common sense. He was always awkward and embarrassing, and seemed to have no grasp on any aspect of business. I began to wonder if he was taking drugs in secret.”
― Tomas Adam Nyapi, BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA

“I was standing by the car when two police officers showed up in the alley, very interested in me and the BMW in an alley where car traffic was not allowed at all, sitting there with a Belgian plate tag in the middle of the coffeeshop district, with me, the Hungarian guy, leaning to it smoking a cigarette, obviously waiting for something to happen. They began to examine my IDs and started searching the car. They were looking for drugs, apparently. I had been dealing with them for a few minutes when Adam showed up at the end of the alley. I was the only one looking that way, seeing Adam walking to turn into the alley; the two officers were too busy to notice what I had witnessed. The moment Adam looked up and noticed the officers around me, the moment he was about to turn right towards us into the alley, he made a 180-degree turn, the way a bad kid would do when playing hide and seek. Catching his steps the way Mr. Bean or Benny Hill would do—I could almost hear the music too—was both very funny and very concerning. He was too stupid to be a criminal; he was such a lame criminal that he didn't even think of walking past the alley's entrance like nothing happened instead of turning around and acting so suspiciously and obviously being in the wrong. I began to wonder how the coffeeshop business would work out with this guy if he was suddenly on cocaine all the time before we even opened the club? How would not he get me in trouble when there would be kilograms of marijuana and tons of cash flying around? How could I ever quit this job even if we could manage to run the place and get rich over the next 2-3 years? How would I ever get rid of this embarrassing, childish, dangerously silly criminal guy?
By some miracle, in the car—which was used by these junkies and was usually full of smoking accessories—the cops didn't find a cigarette paper either, although they were very, very thorough. Belgian BMW wagon with a Hungarian guy, in an alley in the area full of marijuana clubs. They were sure they had me now, that they would be rewarded for such a catch. But there was nothing in the car.
I was able to show them Rachel's Belgian registration and everything, explaining that she was my girlfriend who was in Belgium at that time and we were both working for a company selling smoking accessories; I gave them my business card. I apologized for parking there and even driving into that alley with the car.
They fined me regardless. Before we started dealing with the marijuana behalf my name, we were collecting fines attributed to Adam on my name. Talk about being cheap. Apparently, he had started growing a lot of marijuana without my knowledge in a place he did not want me to find out about.


As I was driving back to Urgell, we were both very silent. I was calm but he was anxious and I could almost hear the gears spinning in his mind. Perhaps at the same moment, we both realized that if I got arrested for any reason and ended up in jail, Adam could keep the 33% profit of the coffeeshop which I had signed up for and which belonged to me.

‘Thinking quickly. Acting quicker.’
Never quick enough. The sneaker.
Adam was usually very slow,
whether he was high or low.”
― Tomas Adam Nyapi, BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA

“The Uruguayan kid was well-spoken and intelligent; he was a 21-year-old Rasta kid from Montevideo. His name was Cristobal. He seemed really interested in the products and wanted to find a job, saying that if he did not find one soon he would have to leave his girlfriend behind in Barcelona and go back to Uruguay. He had a gorgeous Spanish girlfriend; he showed me a picture, I had met her once. She was so hot, I did not even know how he had gotten close to her. So, I thought the kid had the right motives and the necessary motivation to do this job.
His situation was not really that different from mine.
He was kind and soft-spoken; he had innocent eyes. You could tell by his voice that he was a good person and would not do anything wrong, not even if he was forced to.
I was sure he was not a Silvio-like Spaniard thief who would dare go wild stealing orders and collecting full money for half-delivered products.

Silvio might even have involved the store owners, the alleged clients, in the scam to squeeze more products out of poor fool Adam, „The Goof-Proof.”
― Tomas Adam Nyapi, BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA

“At one particular moment, with my eyes closed, I was crying and asking the question over and over aloud, „Does true love exist? Does true love exist in girls? Does true love exist? Does Sabrina love me? Does true love exist? Does true love exist?” - I had suddenly seen a flash.
As if I was poking the Devil in the dark, staring too long into the darkness until it looked back at me as they say. I have never told anyone about this before.
I try to describe what I had seen that night in that windowless, dark, and cold place deep inside under that big, old building, with my eyes closed.
It made a half turn, flashing one of its eyes at me for a moment before disappearing again into the dark. As if it was nodding to me, I still get goosebumps years later when I try to describe it.
As if it had been standing there all along, and just tried to reassure me that it had heard my question and would answer. Quite close. Just to make me be quiet finally.

His eyes were yellow and red. I'm not actually sure if it had two eyes; I only saw one of them.
One Evil Eye.
Perhaps he had lost an eye, that's why I had seen the light of only one of them.
His eye was malicious, but not particularly. It was more tired and angry yet understanding, as if he had heard this question over a billion times before from fools like me and I did not amuse him with my question and demand. As if he was about to show me a trick he had known for a long time.
As if Satan had seen it all already. He knows all the tricks, he invented them, he inspired them all. As if he was bored of humanity already.
(There is only One Evil Eye. The planet Saturn.)
I was cuddling with Adam's cat, crying a lot, asking the darkness, about Love, and reflecting on Sabrina.
Perhaps it was merely an optical illusion. I leave it up to the reader to decide what they believe about what I was facing and how I miraculously survived, as an atheist goy, as well as who truly supported me throughout the ordeal. If anyone or anything supported me in Spain at all.
I had seen an advertisement somewhere saying that Miss Kittin would be playing on Saturday night, November 16th, 2013 in Barcelona at The Marhes.

Satan. Saturn. Saturday.

Coincidence?
Maybe. So far. Perhaps.
I knew I had to see her again after such a long time; she had been playing drum and bass in the early 2000s across the globe, and also in Budapest. I checked the map; The Marhes was next to Camp Nou, the FC Barcelona stadium. I thought of buying a bottle of champagne, which I didn't like, unless it’s Italian, but I wanted to celebrate, and I would walk along Avenida Roma to get there straight. I knew I'd get drunk; I didn't want to drive, I wanted to arrive intoxicated. I re-posted the Miss Kittin party’s flyer, on Instagram, writing underneath it :
‘All roads lead to Rome.”
― Tomas Adam Nyapi, BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA

“Now she was trying to act that she was mad at her because I got hurt but I could see that she didn’t even put effort in acting or asking around or about what happened or where does it hurt. Which again just kept giving her away more and more minute after minute, I could see Adam laughing behind Martina’s stupidity with Sabrina and I really wanted to finally wake her up to reality from their nightmarish spell.
Now she wanted another shot of cognac. She held the empty glass, asking for more without saying a word. Again, very telling. She knew now if she spoke a word she would give herself away even more. Why was she so mad at Sabrina in fact? I grabbed the bottle from the freezer, poured her another shot, and she gulped it down. I left the frosty bottle of cognac on the table and she was playing with the frost with one hand while she held her other hand up in the air. She was fixated with her eyes, her head leaned over the table; she was just staring at the frost on the bottle that she was scratching off with her nails, gazing at it with Evil Eyes.
It was as if she were truly possessed. And. She was.”
― Tomas Adam Nyapi, BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA

“It was uncertain how seriously the police would take the situation, or if I could expect much defence from the law in Spain, where my lawyer had already betrayed me for some reason due to the same coffeeshop, rather working with the mafia.

Amina and Nico might have been involved with the Camorra next door, however, their affiliation was uncertain even after multiple attempts to connect their names further. I had notes back home on the table connecting the criminals and their hubs. I was writing to uncover what I knew happened. To discover what I knew.

Perhaps it was a mistake to withhold any information from those two officers regarding the coffeeshop. It's possible that I should have informed them that Ruan was working for individuals who intended to use my identity to operate one of the largest, if not the largest, coffeeshops in town. The club was located in the Port of Ciutat Vella, where the Camorra had seemingly established a monopoly since 2014. I was still unsure if Adam, Sabrina, Nico, Amina, and the others had already made a deal with them or not. Yet.

She had keys to my home and I had been unable to sleep for weeks already. She had my IDs. I was unsure and concerned as to why she would take them, what was her purpose? If I died somehow and I had no documents, it would be a longer process to identify me. That means more time to sell marijuana behalf my name and get rich.
How can one identify a body without any IDs or with missing fingerprints? By examining dental records.

Who was the individual inside the circle? The circle within the circle? The Eye within the Eye? The focal point of the wheelcart? With all the spikes pointing towards it. Who was the fictitious Robin Hood, the Boss of their nasty and drug-addicted mafia?”
― Tomas Adam Nyapi, BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA

“He almost broke the window of the front door coming in about two minutes later, as if he was running from Gran Via and the Urgell corner. Sweating, soaked, with two bags; a luggage in his hand and a bigger side bag across his chest.
As he threw his luggage to the ground and jumped up the stairs, trying to run up to me, he slipped on the dangerous, tiled, and sharp steps, falling and rolling back into the corner in a state of misery. He tried to get up again, but he fell back down to the bottom of the stairs. The side bag's strap slipped off his shoulder and jammed his legs as he jumped up again and tried to run up to me once more. In his desperation, he fell back down to the bottom of the stairs when his foot got caught in the side bag again, until he finally removed it screaming like a jackal and tried again for the fourth time. I was just standing at the top of the stairs, trying to contain my amazement and amusement at the same time, wondering what was wrong with this bizarre, crazy-crazy guy.

It was like another Benny Hill episode, or a Mr Bean scene. But he sure did get hurt too. It was amazing. Finally he managed to scramble and run up the stairs, madly yelling at me. The wireless office phone was in my hand and we had just spoken a minute ago or two. He must have been heading towards Gran Via towards the airport, which I highly doubted as he was hiding in Europe; he was probably going to a bus station around Plaza Espanya. I doubt he was taking the train in Spain, trying to hide in Europe.

Once he managed to get up and as I stood there in disbelief, almost laughing at him, with my hands in the air as if I didn’t know what was going on, he ripped the office phone from my hand and threw it to the ground, breaking it into many pieces upstairs.”
― Tomas Adam Nyapi, BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA

“- I have to go.
- No. You don't have to go.
- Yes, I do.
- No, you have to rest now.
- I gotta go.
- No, you don't have to go anywhere. You don't need to walk out this door and hire a Pakistani.
- I have to go. I got other things to do.
- F…g bullshit! We just woke up! And you are bleeding. I tie you to the gas pipe by the oven in the kitchen, girl. You do not go out on that door until you calm down Martina.
- I am calm.
- No, you need a few hours tied to the gas pipe to think some things over. Meditate a bit.
- I want to go.
- I don’t give a f..k what do you want right now, Martina, I am serious. You are wrong to think I won’t tie you to that f…g pipe if you don’t calm the f..k down and use your head finally. Apparently you do not know me so well after a year, baby. You are really stupid and you don’t see or hear it when I am telling you nicely. OK. You start to piss me off because you don’t realize it. You didn’t come home here to get Sabrina killed, do you understand? It is time for you now to get yourself together after this terrible year and begin to listen to me before I slap you only once Martina but the wall gives you the second one. Do you understand? Things only get done if I take care of them myself, haven’t you seen or realized that yet? Now, you need to listen to me just this once, Martina, and stay put with your bleeding hand, before I take you to the hospital for some stitches. Do you want stitches in your hand? Shots?
- No.
- Tough. So sit tight until I clean up this mess, and roll a joint. Here, have a Hennessy.
- I don’t want it.
- I repeat. I did not ask what do you want the first time in one year. I don’t give a f..k. You are listening to the smarter one. I told you to take a shot so that you calm down before you get yourself in jail for your stupidity thinking that you had to get Sabrina killed for any reason. Who told you this bullshit Martina? No hospital, no doctor, no medication, no stitches, then you need a drink right now. Alcohol. A bit. Internally. And externally. And shut up. Answer when I ask you something. Who told you this bullshit Martina that Sabrina has the club and she has to die?
- Nobody. No one told me that.
– You are lying. Who told you that Sabrina was your enemy, Martina?
– Nobody. You.
– Stop playing! I told you she is a f…g loser, a junkie, a bum, a liar, a thief. Do you want me to beat the answers, the living shit out of Adam, or Nicolas? Which one? Both?”
― Tomas Adam Nyapi, BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA

“- Today we hire a Paki, this was it, she made her bets, a huge Pakistani guy will beat her, rob her and rape her, tonight, Tommy!! Fu…ing bitch she is going to die now!! – Ready made (premeditated) or instant: plans. (Solicitation of murder for hire.) Organized crimes. Mafia. Gang. Mob. “Coincidence.” (Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations) International. Juicy ideas and plans. Murder. Revealed. Slipped out. Family. Business. Drugs. Past. Nazi. Emotional. Reaction. True. Rare. Impression. Eyes. Blazing. Evil. No Mask.
- No way Martina, calm down Lil Kim! That's out of question. Are you out of your mind?
- Nononono, f..k you too why do you defending her?!
- What, Martina!?!? What are you talking about?! And stop moving, stay still!! Hold your hand up!
- We hire a paki!
- No we don’t! Stop moving your arm!! Let me stop the bleeding! Martina I am not defending her, she just got me lynched for no reason with a lie, I am pretty mad at her, trust me, I’m in pain.
- So we hire a paki!
- No we don’t!!
- So I hire a paki! I don’t need your money! F..k her! I hire two pakistani guys!! She gets it now, Tommy!
- Nooo!
- What no? F..k you too, Tommy!!! I hire a paki or two!
- What?! No, you don’t do shit! Stop!! Stop calling me Tommy! Who the f..k told you to call me the way my mother called me when I was a kid and you weren’t born yet?
- Pakis will rape her and rob her and beat her up!!
- Jesus Christ, you are crazy!! Get back to Earth! Right now! Martina!! Maybe Sabrina is a f…g nasty criminal, a bad person but she deserves a lawyer she can stick up in her butt, she is going to rot in jail this time finally or she can pay us, a lot!
- No no no this was it, it was enough of her, no more court house, f…g joke!!! – There was lethal rage in her eyes. I felt like if I convince her to not hire a Pakistani or two to kill Sabrina then she will kill me on the spot instead just to calm her rage. It was so absurd.
- Don’t you move your f…g hand! I am not telling you again to calm the f..k down and stop moving around. And listen to me. I am not telling you again to forget about hiring Pakistanis, you idiot!! Are you this f…g stupid? She will be held accountable for her crimes, Martina, soon, on court. Finally.
- No court, this was it, she is done!!
- No Martina, we can’t do that, we are not criminals, Martina to hire to kill!! “Were you this f…g stupid before” we got together?! Forget the Paki hitmans!!
- I know a lot of Pakistanis don’t you worry about that. – She almost had cut open her veins above her wrist and she began to realize it but she was still raging.
- Jesus Christ. What the f..k are you talking about? Get back to reality young lady before I smack you once really to save your f…g life from yourself!
- You are defending her!
- No! F..k her! You are just f….g stupid Martina!! You listen to me before I smack you instead of three of your weak parents and your big brother. The cops catch the Pakistani in this tiny town so quickly you won’t have time to blink, you go down with him. Think. Use your f…g head finally. Do you really want to revenge something? Think then. Before you get yourself killed or jailed you idiot and me as well. Time for you to listen to me finally in Europe, young lady after an entire f…g year of trouble!!”
― Tomas Adam Nyapi, BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA

“Once both male canines had collected enough smell samples from Sabrina's crotch/my dinner, we stopped laughing and managed to get inside the apartment.
It was a two-room apartment on the ground floor and it was quite dark inside, with the curtains closed and only one or two lamps turned on in the entire place. Two big cats, two big dogs and two Jewish guys were sitting in the living room. There were a variety of products scattered all over the place. The room was a mess, not necessarily caused by the pets. They told us that they also have two more large cats at home in Belgium.


Mario introduced us to Tom Titelany: the short, dark-haired guy who had opened the door and was the owner of the Dogue de Bordeaux.

The other guy, sitting in the dark, a bit taller and skinnier with brighter skin,
and brighter hair, and much brighter eyes, called Adam Maraudin,
was the owner of the two large cats and the Bull Terrier jumping around.

There was a huge serpent tattoo winding around Adam's shoulder,
and though his tank top only revealed part of the design,
it was clear that this was not an ordinary tattoo,
it seemed to me to be of Far-Eastern origin or Thai.

They then introduced us to Adam's girlfriend, the British Rachel Conarts, whom Adam called Shifra for some reason. She had ginger hair and was as tall as Adam, taller than Tom.


There was a big bag of scuba diving kit in the living room and, when I asked them about it, they told me that Shifra and Adam had first met in Thailand, where they had been scuba diving.
One of them was called Tom, the same as my name, and the other one was called Adam, coincidentally the same as my middle name. Coincidence? I don’t know.”
― Tomas Adam Nyapi, BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA

“Who were these people who were Nico's friends at that club? It seemed like an Italian-Spanish coffeeshop. I'm not sure, it was quite far from downtown in a pretty hidden location. I don't remember the name of the club or the street, but if I drive from Urgell I can find it. I took a few pictures outside the reception area while we were waiting outside with Adam to be allowed to enter after being registered as club members. They took our entry into the almost empty private club very seriously, unlike my girlfriend selling weed in their dispensary at age 20, when I just gave her a job elsewhere.
The pictures I took were of two skateboards hanging on the wall next to each other. They were spray-painted with smiling devilish faces, the comedy and tragedy masks.
(„Sock and buskin: The sock and buskin are two ancient symbols of comedy and tragedy. In ancient Greek theatre, actors in tragic roles wore a boot called a buskin (Latin cothurnus). The actors with comedic roles wore only a thin-soled shoe called a sock (Latin soccus).” – Source: Wikipedia)
There was another skateboard hanging on the wall, showing the devil smiling with his eyes and teeth and horns only visible in the darkness of the artwork. I doubt they were Italians – they were rather Spaniards – but I never really met anyone else from there besides Nico and Carulo. But I trusted Carulo; he was different. Carulo was a known person in Catalonia.
He was known to be the person who was sitting in the Catalan Parliament and rolled a joint and lit it up, smoking during a session as a protest against the law prohibiting marijuana growing and smoking in Spain. Nico told me when he introduced me to Carulo in the summer of 2013, almost a year earlier: “This is the guy you can thank for being able to smoke freely in Catalonia without the police bothering you. Tomas, meet Carulo.”
He never really ordered from me if I had met him before. He had no traffic; his growshop was always closed. He was only smoking inside with his younger brother, who was always walking his bull terrier.
Their white Bull Terrier was female, half the size of Chico, but she was kind of crazy; you could see in her eyes that she was not normal; she had mental issues. At least, looking into Carulo's eyes and his brother's eyes, I recognized the similar illness in their dog's eyes.
In 2014, it had been over four years since I had been working with dogs in my secondary job interpreting Italian and travelling every fifth weekend.
Additionally, Huns came to Europe with their animals, including their dogs. There are at least nine unique Hungarian dog breeds.”
― Tomas Adam Nyapi, BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA

“Wonderful. Now what was I doing, dear?'
'Playing chess with Bogdan.'
'Oh, good. He made me scrambled eggs. And he gave Ron cocaine. What a champ. I'll get back to him. [...]”
― Richard Osman, The Man Who Died Twice

“There's really no better way to tszuj up your life in moments of dire need other than, maybe, Vyvanse. Or cocaine. Or a molly. Or whatever.”
― Kit Olsen, The Chic Diet: The Dietary and Psychological Tactics of the Urban Elite

“Guy Speer called it cocaine brain. Neuroscientists have found that the prospect of making money stimulates the same primitive reward circuits in the brain that cocaine does…”
― Atul Gawande, The Checklist Manifesto: How to Get Things Right