So, I was thinking about what a goddamn badass Leonard McCoy is.
Actually, I was thinking about drug shortages. I am a resident in the United States. The United States of America. First world medicine, folks. And sometimes - all too frequently - I have to revise the treatment plan of a healthy patient undergoing elective surgery because I do not have access to the ideal drug.
In other words, I compromise.
That’s a sickening feeling, friends.
Which brings me back to Bones.
Bones, Chief Medical Officer on a five year mission in deep space, where no man has gone before. Bones, who cares so goddamn deeply. Bones, desperately filing requisition forms for medications that he has no hope of receiving in the foreseeable future. Bones, elbow deep in a unfortunate ensign that caught the wrong end of a blast in engineering, sweat dripping in his eyes, nagging thoughts of, “is his name Jason or Joseph?” Bones, mad as hell because medical takes another budget cut. Bones praying frantically to a god he doesn’t believe in, “oh, please, not again.” Bones, eyeballing a unknown species and making a quick judgment call, based on a hasty heart rate estimate and an eyeballed weight, the effective loading dose of a - probably - renal toxic drug. Bones, hissing at Spock to shut the hell up, all the while making his own calculations. Bones, who years after the mission has ended, bolts up out of a dead sleep in a panic of adrenaline, because endless nights of call have made gentle awakenings impossible. Bones, staring dumbstruck at Starfleet Medical’s supply rooms. Bones, dedicatedly carting his tiny medkit on his hip, facing an alien world with a tricorder and a few hypos. Bones, hiding in his quarters for days, pouring over all of the federation’s published xenophysiology records, searching for a connection, wondering where it went wrong. Bones replaying the day’s scene in his mind, fear still gripping his chest as Jim sleeps peacefully in the biobed. Bones alone in the field, performing a bilateral finger thoracostomy on a blue-lipped yeoman who reminds him a little too much of Joanna (if somebody does not write this fic, I will). Bones, fresh out of med school, feverently murmuring his oath with conviction and wide-eyed naivety. Bones blaming himself. Bones bitching about the unpredictability of genetically modified antimicrobials. Bones needing a goddamn drink. Bones, contemplating the nuances of therapeutic nihilism. Bones, forcing himself to meet Jim’s eyes as Jim officiates a funeral. Bones, calculating pharmacokinetics in his head. Bones, knowing there was nothing to be done, but dammit, what if? Bones, painstakingly documenting his every discovery, every treatment plan, every failure and every triumph, for the next generation of medical professionals. Bones in his office with his head in his hands. Bones, absolutely giddy and shaking with relief, “Don’t be so melodramatic; you were barely dead.”
Practicing medicine is terrifying. Every day, I am horrified at the thought that I will not be able to provide for my patients. I love my field with every breath in my body, but the responsibility is overwhelming, and sobering.
Disease and danger, indeed.
“By golly, Jim, I’m beginning to think I can cure a rainy day.”
If you ever think you’ve had a really terrible idea, just remember that the Australian Bureau of Statistics thought it would be a good idea to have THE ENTIRE POPULATION OF AUSTRALIA complete an ONLINE survey on ONE NIGHT.
Not much to say here, other than… don’t load huge bowls. As by loading more you’re more likely to not spread it around enough and end up with a fat puddle boiling and burning up your drugs. Load a moderately small bowl, spread it around good, and smoke that shit son. If you get to the end of the bowl and don’t think you’re high enough, load another one.
Anyways, first things first. “Cutting,” or at least that’s what I’ve always heard it refered to, and learned it that way. The act of melting down and allowing your meth to recrystalize all over in the bowl of the pipe. (While it is recrystalizing, roll that puddle around and spread it out. Do this inbetween hits also.) Supposedly ment to burn off cuts and impurities, however this is bullshit. Most cuts and practically all impurities melt right down and recrystalize in with the meth. Burning off while you smoke, and going into your lungs. Don’t worry, this stuff is good for you. It’ll grow some hair on your chest. Although “cutting” doesn’t burn off any impurities or cuts, it does allow you to make the bowl last longer. By spreading it around while it recrystalizes, you will in turn not heat it all at once and have more control over it. You’re less likely to burn up and destroy a bunch of meth smoking a thin puddle. Whereas trying to smoke a fat puddle will waste meth. Longer lasting bowls equal more smoke and more high.
There is one exception to this that I’ve found so far, which is… MSM. If you know what you’re doing, you CAN burn off most of it and be left with cleaner dope to smoke. You know sometimes when you take that first hit, and exhale barely any smoke? That was mostly MSM. Sadly though I have no clue how to explain the process through which you burn it off. But don’t loose hope now, because you CAN burn it off.
Don’t use one of those fancy shmancy torch lighters unless you know what you’re doing. They burn too hot, and will destroy your drugs if you’re not careful. This is not good, you want to just vaporize them and suck them into your lungs. Not burn them up into nothing. A regular Bic lighter works best, with Crickets coming in second. But be forwarned, lighters get really fucking hot when you keep them lit for those long hits so common with meth. They will burn you and hurt you, possibly making you jerk or twitch… only to end up throwing a frail glass pipe accross the room. Be careful with lighters kids.
Needle Lighters The point of the needle lighters is to force the gas(which has been turned way down) through the smaller hole of the needle, and lighting it up on top. Makes for a tinny tiny not so hot flame which is good for smokin’ dope. And having the needle somewhat long prevents the crappy plastic lighter(which most adjustable ones are) from melting itself and dying.
Heating and smoking
The flame of your lighter should never be touching the glass. If it’s close, it’s probably too close. Getting too close means you’re heating it too much, this destroys drugs. Not good. And it blackens up the pipe, which is a pain in the ass to clean and hard to see through.
Don’t apply constant heat, as this will also get it too hot and destroy drugs. Again, not a good thing. Heat it until it’s smoking good and pull flame away. When the smoke starts thinning, reapply flame until it’s smoking good again.
Roll it side to side slightly while heating to help prevent overheating one spot and destroying product. You just want a nice smoking puddle, not a boiling one.
When coming to the end of your hit, after you’ve stopped heating it and the smoke is again starting to thin. But you don’t have that much breath left to warrent reheating and getting it smoking good again. Carb it, or put your finger over the carb(hole on top of the bowl) to stop the airflow and allow more vapor to condense inside. Then once a little has condensed, release the carb and continue with the inhale. Not too fast, not too slow though. A slow tapping kind of action works best. Carb for a second, uncarb and inhale, carb for a second, uncarb and inhale, etc…
Before smoking the stem, remelt that shit down and let it recrystalize. Or if you have enough residue, melt it down and let it drip down into the bowl to recrystalize. While melting, plug the end of the stem with your finger to prevent vapor from escaping.
Hold the pipe with the end of the tube BEHIND your teeth. Although not the sole cause of tooth decay/loss, it sure as hell doesn’t help anything to be sucking those water hungry meth vapors past your chompers. Holding the pipe on your lips will most likely result in some cute little dried out dead spots, which will also show up on your tongue if you get that in the way. So don’t use your tongue as a valve to restrict airflow by plugging part of the tube. Yes it does slow down the hit, and allow for a bigger hit. But it fucks your tongue up pretty bad for a day or two.
Nice slow inhalation with micropuffing action seems to work best. Don’t pause and hold your hit whiling searching for another spot to smoke because you have a little breath left. Don’t hold your hit period. By the time you’re done taking those long ass hits, most of what you’re going to get out of the smoke has already been absorbed. Holding it longer may get you a little more out of it, but it’s doing way more damage to your lungs in the process.
Getting the most out of it
If you’re worried about wasting smoke, share it with a boyfriend/girlfriend via mouth to mouth action. It doesn’t have to take forever like a hit off the pipe. Quick and smooth works fine. Or, if you have no one to share with you could exhale into a ballon. And take a few more hits off it, inhaling and exhaling into the ballon. With breaths of fresh air inbetween hits of course.
Then if you’re a real stickler, you can save that balloon. Since it has all them little water droplets from your breath that have absorbed a little vapor. Or if you have nice dry breath, the balloon may have a coating of residue. Just like the stem of your pipe. Get that stuff wet, and put it in with your Kool Aid/Juice/Water, or just lick it if you’d like. Or I suppose you could try to scrape it and load another bowl…
Cleaning the pipe
So you’ve not been listening to me and burnt up some of your drugs smoking, and in the process blackened the fuck out of the bottom of your pipe. Good job dumby. Now you have a few options, you can either just not care and wipe it off your your shirt or pants. Or, you can have a semi-damp rag handy. Preferably warm or room temperature water. If you use cold water you run the risk of busting the pipe. Or you can learn how to smoke correctly and never deal with soot again.
Now for cleaning that brown/black residue left inside after you’ve gone through a sizable amount of meth. Again you have a few options. You can either;
a) Throw your pipe away and make a new one. Now if you know how to blow your own pipes option a is pretty damn easy, just blow a new one and sell the old one to another tweaker for $5.
b) Bust out the propane torch and burn it out. If you have a propane torch, no acetone, and no knowledge on blowing pipes then option b is your best bet. But be forwarned, don’t heat your pipe too much because it will get soft and start to deform if you heat it too long. And don’t do this outside on a cool night, hot glass needs to be cooled slowly. Exposing it to the cold night air while it’s glowing hot will break it. Inside, preferably warm room.
c) Use a solvent like acetone and let it soak for a while, then rinse. Just fill the bowl with a little acetone, let it soak for a while, empty and rinse. Repeat if neccessary. Do in a well ventilated area, not in the closet with the doors shut
Blair Adams was a 31 year old Canadian resident who was found dead in the parking lot of a Knoxville, Tennessee hotel in July 1996. The police later found out that just before his death he acted very strangely, claiming that people were trying to kill him.
On the 5th of July he took out all of his money in his savings account, along with thousands of dollars worth of jewelry and gold. He went to the Canadian-American border to try and leave but was denied because of all the cash he had with him (a single man with a load of cash fits the profile of a drug trafficker).
The next day, he went to work and quit his job. He then bought a round trip to Germany and then went to a friend’s place to ask for help because he thought someone was trying to kill him. Unfortunately, his friend was unable to help. Then the next day he turned in his tickets, got a rental car, and was able to cross the border and go to Seattle.
He then bought a one-way ticket to Washington, DC and shortly after arriving there he went to Knoxville. He arrived at a gas station at 5:30 pm and told the attendant that his car would not start. The attendant then told Blair that he had the wrong keys. Blair then hitchhiked to a hotel where he began to act even more strangely. According to the manager, Blair walked in and out of the hotel lobby a total of 5 times before he rented a room, but afterwards went out and was never seen alive ever again.
Twelve hours later, his body, which was naked from the waist down, was found in the hotel parking lot. His body was surrounded with nearly $4,000 worth of Canadian, American, and German currency. The cause of death was later discovered as a blow to the stomach. He was murdered just as he had feared.
To this day this mysterious case remains unsolved.
Our group is in the final scene in the fourth installment of our Dusk City Outlaws campaign, and one of the players, the Family Brawler, just got hit in the face with a load of hallucinogenic drugs which the crew was tasked with recovering from a rival cartel. Here is my recap of the situation;
DM (me): So while you guys are arguing over these spices, back to [the Brawler]’s POV, where giant penguin [Mummer Assassin] just shot and killed the Grinch, [Vesper Alchemist] shriveled up and turned into old hag dust, [Circle Magus] is now the Slenderman, and currently she is running around the room being chased by a giant Naughty Bear while like the other nine butcher boys are just standing there.
Brawler’s player, afterwards: I’m not upset, but [her character] sure is.
A tactical approach. It’s a way of living. It’s the way most of us are living, whether we realize it or not… we are either thinking on how to make it happen and how to get there or– we will figure it all out along the way.
Either way, we are planning, in other words, using a tactic in order to have something happen in our way. But does that mean, we don’t believe in fate?
Not exactly. And Dr. Baekhyun knows exactly what it implies. Being a doctor wasn’t in the plan, and yet he stood fifth floor up, managing patients and catering to them. Baekhyun could thank his genius brain cells to have had pass five years of medical school.
Zero-context dan mentions + describing the male trainer as attractive + insight into the way phil literally endures physical discomfort to avoid awkward public situations - my takeaways. Are you going to analyze this one?
you hit all my main points friend!!!!! it was so so so lovely and just what i needed today. seeing phil reiterate that he too suffers from the exact same sorts of social anxiety that people always associate with dan is always so exciting to me. i think too often there’s a need amongst viewers to focus on dnp’s ~yin and yang~ differences which is a cute trope in theory but sometimes it causes people to create differences in their personalities where they don’t actually exist. to that end i always see ppl say that phil is more confident in social situations than dan is or that he acts as dan’s anchor when they’re in public, but it’s clear from so many stories recently that phil’s feelings about human interaction are essentially the exact same as dan’s are, and i was so happy he made a video based off of that fact!
hearing phil talk about male attraction so casually genuinely made my day. it’s not something we hear as frequently from him so every time it happens i feel literal days being added onto my lifespan. he used the words PERFECT and HUNKY i mean ffs this was basically a story about phil being nervous around a cute buff guy and then nearly vomiting on him. amazing. the stuff of dreams
the sketches in this were also genuinely hilarious like i was truly giggling out loud. i actually always think phil does such a good job at playing other characters in his videos and this one was no exception
on the subject of casual mentions of things, the casual dan mention was such a standout to me as well. in the same pattern we’ve been seeing on dan’s channel for a while, and on phil’s as well but to a lesser degree, he mentions dan with absolutely no context or clarifier as to his role in phil’s life, and just says they enjoyed stuffing themselves full of indian food. it makes me so warm every time they casually allude to the way in which their whole lives are intertwined and i was Emotional.
honestly i’m just in shock this actually happened to phil like. can we just take a second to process that phil actually, literally allowed himself to be subject to mild physical torture by a muscley dude and didn’t protest bc he was too awkward and probably too smitten, and he let it get to the point where he literally had to go vomit in a toilet ………….. ……. …… what the hell. i hate infantilizing him but my reaction was and still is one of deepest, almost maternal concern. leon is also inept and shouldn’t have that job lol
ahhh i love phil’s dumb life and his colorful animal similes (‘kicks his legs forward and back like a frog on loads of drugs,’ ’the disappointment of a lion that is about to eat a trembling deer,’ ‘running up [the treadmill] like an elephant that had just been born,’) and his ability to find the humor even in situations where he’s cripplingly awkward and ultimately humiliated w his head in a gym toilet (whereas someone else might tell a social anxiety story like this with heaps of self-deprecation and insecurity, phil rightfully points out that nothing about this situation was his fault and leon is an asshat jfc). in short. i love phil. i loved this video. i’m so content <3333
The show’s most tragic victim is Rachel, the “evil” clone. She’s the cautionary tale: Frankenstein’s monster, alone, angry, and cursed. The only one raised with the awareness of what she is, Rachel grows up assured of her own importance and motivated to expand it by doing Neolution’s dirty work. Westmoreland signs a document giving Rachel sovereignty, but later she sees computer files in which she’s still referred to by her patent number. Despite her leadership, cunning, and bravery, even those working with her never regard her as human.
Her willingness to hurt her sisters and herself shows what happens to someone whose experience of nature and nurture is one and the same. We, the viewers, also dehumanize Rachel by writing her off as “one of them.” When she lands on the side of her sisters, she does so not out of morality but out of vengeance. At the end, Westmoreland, the closest thing she has to a father, taunts her: “it’s fitting you return to your cage. All lab rats do.” But her childhood flashbacks suggest she doesn’t want others to experience what she has.
When Neolutionists take 9-year-old Kira from her home at gunpoint, Rachel initially supports the plan to load Kira with fertility drugs and then harvest her eggs to access her mutated gene. But when Kira gives Rachel a friendship bracelet (and perhaps her first friendship), Rachel’s haunted expression suggests that beneath her usually unflappable demeanor, she’s still a frightened little girl. When Kira asks, “Who hurt you?” Rachel responds, “They all did.”