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What's the worst thing you've done to get drug money?

Well I've done some pretty scumbag shit. Some of which I'm not gonna admit on a public forum.

But in hs I mentored an autistic kid. His mom offered me some money to watch him for a day so she could get a break. I got 60$ and,with him in the car, drove to the hood and picked up a half gram of meth and a half gram of heroin. I stopped at the nearest burger king, bought him 2 dollar menu burgers with change I had in my car, and then shot a fat goofball in the bathroom.
 
ykm420 said:
I'll fall off a roof for you, Smoky<3 Just make sure you stick a needle in my arm, I'll speedbawl back to health real quick!
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ha! Yup! That comment can go on the other thread lol. What we would do for drugs. :)
Ops! This is that thread… I must be tired. :\
 
Robbed, burglarized. But stealing drugs/money from my mother, though she's also an addict, makes me feel the worst :(
 
If the dude was cute, I'd be all over him for a half gram of H. Or even a dub, depending on our relationship.

It's amazing the amount of H you can get just for acting like you're romantically interested in someone.
 
psychopath said:
I told my emotionally fragile mother that I owed my muscular, violent and "urban" H dealer $300. After she cried/yelled for 15 minutes, she took me to the ATM.
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Lmfao I like how you emphasized "urban" we all know what that means haha
 
somnilicious said:
When I first started taking Xanax with methadone years ago I would blackout and go on ungodly binges. Once I blacked out for a whole week. I came out of this Xanax haze only to find that I was walking in the absolute worst crack infested neighborhood in Orlando. I didn't know how I got there or why I was there. So I spot my car about a block down. I walk up to it and this ghetto chick comes out of the house and says "Lets go I got the shit. We about to hit the block."

I was dumbfounded. I didn't know what to say so I got in the car and we proceeded to drive around in my car selling crack. Curiosity and sanity got the best of me so I start inquiring as to how we knew each other and what we were doing. She slammed on the breaks and looked at me like I was nuts. She said "Boy! you don't remember meeting me. Smoking a thousand dollars in crack and then going off to get more money. Only to come back with your dad's credit card. You don't remember filling up peoples tanks for money."

" Damn.... I guess not." Was my best reply

"Boy your dad was one pissed off motherfucka when he called. He done cut the card off 'cause you done spent $3000"

I gasped in horror. I was literally unable to breath and grabbing my chest. I was so ashamed to go home that I rode around with this chick for 3 more days hustling crack and smoking the profit. On one of these days I went to the methadone clinic only to find out that I had already gone there when I was blacked out on the wrong day. They took one look at me and led me to the back for a drug test, which I had immediately failed. They had then refused to dose me because I was positive for benzos and proceeded to do the same thing for the next 4 days.

On the last day we were running low on cash so this chick drives to this old ass dudes house. He buys crack under the pretense that she fuck him. So there I am sitting in this dirty ass kitchen at 4:00 in the morning withdrawing from methadone and smoking crack, while this chick and the guy's moans compete with blaring porn in the next room. All the while I am banging on the door demanding more crack. They finally get pissed at me and throw me a few more rocks.

The next morning I walk out to the car only to find that I am out of gas and money and must walk two miles with the gas can to beg for gas. I am still withdrawing from methadone and now coming down from a hellacious crack binge. I manage to get the gas, the car and more gas to make it to the clinic downtown. I finally get half of my dose while they observe me. Only to be met by my dad, who promptly turns me over to their rehab service. Where I am met by more madness that can be followed soon in "The Rehab Chronicles".
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I really would love to here more.
 
So there I was, three days into a Red Bull and regret bender, twitching like a raccoon in a lightning storm. Rent was due, my dealer was texting me emojis I didn't understand but definitely feared, and my only asset was my grandma’s prized collection of commemorative spoons from 1983 to 1996. You know—true rock bottom.

Then I had a thought: alpacas.

Why alpacas? Because three weeks earlier I overheard a rich hipster say, “Alpacas are the new crypto.” That was all the logic I needed.

I drove to a petting zoo with a leash, a trench coat, and a smile that said, “I have no plan.” Under cover of broad daylight, I finessed my way past a distracted zookeeper by loudly declaring, “Emergency alpaca dentist. Where’s the patient?”

Ten minutes later, I’m walking an alpaca named Cinnamon Toast out the gate like we were going for coffee. We hopped in a rented U-Haul (thank you stolen credit card) and cruised to a pop-up art gallery in Williamsburg. I told the owner this alpaca was “a living protest against capitalism and fast fashion.”

The man gave me $2,500 and a free yerba maté.

I spent half on shrooms, the other half on holographic rollerblades.
 
Shellychry00 said:
So there I was, three days into a Red Bull and regret bender, twitching like a raccoon in a lightning storm. Rent was due, my dealer was texting me emojis I didn't understand but definitely feared, and my only asset was my grandma’s prized collection of commemorative spoons from 1983 to 1996. You know—true rock bottom.

Then I had a thought: alpacas.

Why alpacas? Because three weeks earlier I overheard a rich hipster say, “Alpacas are the new crypto.” That was all the logic I needed.

I drove to a petting zoo with a leash, a trench coat, and a smile that said, “I have no plan.” Under cover of broad daylight, I finessed my way past a distracted zookeeper by loudly declaring, “Emergency alpaca dentist. Where’s the patient?”

Ten minutes later, I’m walking an alpaca named Cinnamon Toast out the gate like we were going for coffee. We hopped in a rented U-Haul (thank you stolen credit card) and cruised to a pop-up art gallery in Williamsburg. I told the owner this alpaca was “a living protest against capitalism and fast fashion.”

The man gave me $2,500 and a free yerba maté.

I spent half on shrooms, the other half on holographic rollerblades.
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Funny to think about but I say this is a troll/BS. We have a best of BL thread is one where a guy got blackout on ambien or something and ordered 2 alpacas online. That one is more believable.
 
Do you know this has always haunted me ever since I did it. But back in the day I was living with a dealer and he'd popped out. We'd just had an argument as he said I was starting to smoke too much crack. So to prove him wrong I told him that I'd only smoke 20 quids worth a day. Now that was a lot back in the 90s. But while he was out a girl of about 19 came round and wanted an 8th of resin. She wasn't sure what resin was just said she wanted something to smoke to chill. So I knew she was naive I told her I had to go upstairs to cut and weigh it. 5 mins later I came down, gave her the resin and told her this was 25 quid as it was really good. She paid me the 25 quid and left. That gave me 25 quid to buy some white from a mate round the corner. But I often wonder what she thought as she burned those two black jack sweets over the tobacco and watched it melt and drip all over the place. I still feel quite guilty but I got the white I needed. My bloke couldn't believe I could manage on 20 quid. He was so impressed he relented. The things you do to get buzzed eh? Bad bad girl, that's me. Now I'm just a shameless grandma.
 
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