*** Official Idiotic War on Drugs Thread ***

Post here news stories about the idiotic "War on Drugs". Why a thread about this here? Because it's a huge fraud that rivals anything seen directly in the poker world. And it is costing most of us a lot even if you never use those drugs or are involved in that trade!!! How so?

(1) It hasn't at all dented the amount of harmful drugs available to purchase in the richer countries.

(2) It has turned drug-producing and smuggling-route countries into pawns of drug-trade-enriched psychopathically violent criminal cartels.

(3) It has fostered the asset forfeiture-fueled corruption of many police departments around the country.

(4) Overzealousness by law enforcement and prosecutors has destroyed many struggling communities with selective enforcement, with the result being those communities being taken over or terrorized by wave after wave of the most violent criminals operating the illegal drug markets there.

(5) Its cost in the U.S. has ballooned to ridiculous levels (tens of billions of $) when including direct and indirect expenditures by the federal government, with no material affect on the dangerous drug trade, despite high profile seizures of drugs, such as the one reported here:

http://www.latimes.com/local/lanow/l...810-story.html

And for the record, I don't do any illegal drugs. Heck! I hardly have any alcohol! (I can literally count the servings I've had over the last year on one hand). I just want the madness of this policy to stop. And hopefully the many smart folks on this forum feel think likewise. Or are willing to logically revisited the matter.

Thanks for listening. And look forward to your contributions to this thread.

Anything that puts you in jail is ok with me.

Also, Im revoking this threads official status.

Also, Fall had arrived and the school year was now underway. Jordan and I signed up for the J.V. football team, but for the first time since we began playing sports, we weren’t starters. Neither of us had ever sat on the bench before, in any sport, except when the team had a big lead and the coach put in the other guys to get some experience. For this reason, the current situation was difficult for us to accept.

Jordan and I talked this over, because we were slightly dejected at first, but then we analyzed our situation from a more objective viewpoint. At the J.V. level, the game was played a lot rougher, so size and experience with this type of competition was a huge factor. That’s why we ended up on the second string, behind two sophomores who played the same positions, but who had also been on the team the previous year. Now that we understood why we were on the second string, it just made us even more determined to work hard at practices and scrimmages, so we could earn a starting berth.

Our classes were going well, but I wasn’t overly thrilled with my schedule. I longed for the good old days when Jordan and I were in the same classes, because he was always around when I needed him. He would be there to distract me whenever the class started to get boring, but he was also there to help me when I found the work too difficult to understand. I don’t think any two people could have had a more perfect friendship and I’ve thanked God many times in the past for guiding our parents to move into houses near each other. This not only allowed us to meet, but it also enabled us to build the strong bonds and establish the closeness we now shared. I’m not sure what my life would have been like, if Jordan hadn’t played a major part in it.

Jordan and I also found enough free time to put our moves on some new girls in school, even some that were slightly older than us. We’d concluded there was absolutely no reason for us to be constantly eating the same meal day after day when there was such a smorgasbord of available dishes out there to sample. That’s when we decided to try to get a taste of as many of them as possible.

Neither of us had gotten laid yet, although we’d already done nearly everything else. We reasoned this particular and eagerly sought after goal would be attained eventually, so we weren’t concerned with trying to force the issue, like some of the other guys. We knew it would happen in due course, and since our time was taken up with so many other activities, we had a variety of diversions to keep our minds off of sex. If that wasn’t enough, then we also had each other to take off some of the edge in the mean time, so we refused to dwell on the fact that we still hadn’t climbed Mt. Everest yet, so to speak.

Jordan’s mother began to receive chemotherapy too, as well as getting radiation treatments. We were alarmed when she started to look poorly again, but it was explained to us that this was a typical occurrence for people who were going through chemo and radiation. When her hair began to fall out, she started to wear a kerchief wrapped around her head to make the problem less noticeable. Dad K offered to buy her a wig, but she refused and said this would be fine until her hair grew back again.

When my parents came to visit, my dad would attempt to make Mom K feel less self-conscious by telling her that she reminded him of his mother and grandmother, since they both used to wrap their heads in kerchiefs. He told her his mother and grandmother did this whenever they were working around the house, so it just appeared as if she’d had a busy day housecleaning. After hearing my dad’s explanation, I dubbed Mom K the ‘Italian Cleaning Lady’ and we would all chuckle over our little insider joke.

By the fourth game of the football season, Jordan and I had both won starting positions on offense. The team was 1-2 by this point and the coach said it was time to shake up the lineup of our lackadaisical team. He told us that he’d been impressed with our play at the modified level, as well as what he’d seen in practices and scrimmages so far, so he was going to give us a chance to prove ourselves. We were extremely eager to show him we were capable of playing at this level, because we certainly didn’t like riding the bench.

By the time the season ended, we were not only starting on the offensive squad, but we were also playing about fifty percent of the time on defense as well. Our team finished the football season with a 5-3 record, which wasn’t great, but it wasn’t bad either, considering our slow start. The coach claimed that Jordan and I were mainly responsible for turning the season around and informed us that he was looking forward to having us return the next year.

We were now ready to start basketball season and Jordan became the starting point guard for the J.V. squad, but I was only a backup forward. Jordan had grown three inches [7.6 cm] each of the past two years and was now 5’10” [178 cm]. I, on the other hand, had only grown two inches [5 cm] the first year and then one inch [2.5 cm] the next, so I was only 5’11’ [180 cm] now. This meant I no longer had the height to play the forward position any longer, but I also didn’t have the ball handling skills or outside shooting ability to play either guard position. I was, however, a battler and a slasher under the boards, so it was this ability, along with my hustle, which helped me make the team.

Throughout the season, I sat on the sidelines observing and cheering Jordan on, as he excelled as the team leader. I wasn’t jealous in the least and got immense pleasure from watching him succeed. He did his best trying to help me keep my spirits up, but I eventually concluded that basketball wasn’t going to be my game.

During this same period, Mom K was beginning to look very fragile, due to the cumulative effects of her ongoing treatments. Even though everyone kept telling us this was normal and her spirits remained very high, it was just difficult for us to see it the same way they did. Gradually, we adapted to it, although I can’t say that we ever grew to accept it, so Jordan, Justin and I remained concerned about her recovery. Thinking it might help to alleviate our uncertainty, Dad K bought her a wig to wear, despite her objection. Although it made her look slightly better, it did little to assuage our lingering suspicions.

Whenever I would stay over at their house, Jordan and I would usually participate in more of our sexual practice sessions. I would often be the one that initiated these activities, but it wasn’t because I wanted to have sex with Jordan. It was basically my way of distracting him from the worries he was harboring about his mother’s health. We did the same things we’d done so many times before, but we always claimed we were just ‘perfecting’ our skills, as Jordan liked to say.

The biggest difference to our past interactions was that Jordan would sometimes work two or three fingers up my ass, instead of only one. After he would do that, he would usually joke that he wondered if his girlfriend would be this loose, but I didn’t object. I was willing to do this for him, as long as it made him forget his other concerns for at least a little while. On occasion, he would also tease me and claim that I must feel as if I’d already had a baby, because I was so stretched out. Since I didn’t want to be outdone and give him the upper hand, I would frequently do the same to him and use multiple fingers to ream his ass.

At the beginning of December, Mom K came down with pneumonia and was admitted to the hospital for a while. When Dad K finally was able to bring her home, so she’d be with the family on Christmas Day, she was completely bedridden and very weak. Christmas ended up being a very subdued celebration, because none of us were too upbeat with her looking and feeling so badly. I still spent the majority of my time at their house and my parents let me do this, so I could lend a helping hand and attempt to distract Jordan, Justin and Dad K from their concerns.

Beginning the day after Christmas, Dad K was constantly on the go and extremely busy. He had to take Mom K around to all of her numerous doctors’ appointments, but he was also trying to do everything around the house and attempting to keep up with the demands of his business too. Jordan, Justin and I did everything we could to help out at home, because Dad K had so much on his plate that he was beginning to look nearly as run down as his wife. Seeing this, we all began to worry about him getting sick as well, so we did our best to help out as much as possible.

I could tell that Jordan was very depressed throughout the holidays too, even though he tried to put on a brave front and a good show for his friends and other relatives. It was also obvious that he was doing this mainly for Justin and his father’s benefit, but I wasn’t sure it was having the desired effect. I often wondered if they could see through his façade the same way I did and realized it was merely an act.

Since Jordan’s Christmas hadn’t been very merry, I was determined to help him have a better New Year. One way or another, I was going to find something that would help him enjoy this holiday like he should, but I knew it wasn’t going to be easy. I had been sleeping with Jordan in his bed every night since before Christmas and he was having awful nightmares about his mother’s situation. He would, without fail, startle me awake during the night with the vibrations from his tossing and turning or the sounds from his uncontrollable sobbing. Whenever this happened, I would hold and cuddle with him until he quieted down, but sometimes I would end up clinging to him until it was time to get up the following day.

After so many consecutive nights of this happening, I decided I needed to do something to help take his mind off of his mother’s condition.

“Ok, dude. Are you ready for a little fun?” I asked, before we went to sleep.

“Not tonight. I’m not in the mood,” he replied. This immediately caused me to laugh.

“Listen to yourself. We’re beginning to sound like an old married couple,” I teased. “Not tonight dear. I’m not in the mood. I have a headache.”

He looked at me sternly, but then began to break up too, as my little joke began to sink in.

“All right. I guess it might help,” he reluctantly agreed. “What did you have in mind?”

“Do you think you’re ready for your first piece of ass?” I offered.

I really wasn’t ready to do this and it went against every fiber in my being, but I was willing to do it for my best friend. I felt it might be the one thing that would bring Jordan out of his funk and give him a peaceful night’s rest.

“Do you really mean that?” he asked, in total disbelief, as I nodded my consent.

He had positioned himself on his knees next to me when I first made the offer, so now he was staring at me intently, as he studied my expression.

“Are you really sure you want to do this?” Jordan pressed. “I know you’ve always been opposed to the idea of doing anything of this nature, so are you positive you want to do it now?”

“I am,” I replied, verbally this time.

“You mean you’d really do this just for me?” he asked, in apparent disbelief.

“Of course I would,” I confirmed. “Hey, what are best friends for, if they aren’t willing to do whatever it takes to help each other? Besides, it’s our holiday tradition to do something new sexually over the Christmas break. You just have to promise that you’ll take it really easy on me and be very gentle, because I’m not into pain.”

An enormous smile suddenly began to split Jordan’s face and then he flung his arms around me and squeezed the air out of my lungs. At least for the moment I could see the sparkle re-ignite in his eyes. Besides, we’ve got this tradition thing to uphold.

“I love you Tony. You’re awesome,” Jordan gushed, as he released me. “Thank you. Thank you so much. I never believed we’d ever do this, because I knew how much you were against it. You’re so freaking awesome, man. I mean it. I really, really love you, Tony.”

“A little easy on this love talk, bro,” I teased. “I don’t want anyone thinking that we’re switching teams and going all queer here or anything like that. This will have to be our secret and one we’ll take with us to our graves. I’m only doing this for you, because I’d never do it for anyone else. You understand this, right?”

“Loud and clear, mon capitaine,” Jordan replied. “Damn, you’re the greatest.”

“Yeah, enough talk, before I change my mind,” I urged. “Grab the baby oil and let’s get this over with.”

Jordan immediately reached for the baby oil and pulled it out of his nightstand. Once he had it, he oiled up my hole by working first one, then two and finally three fingers into it. After he finished doing that, he greased up his rod, which was rock solid from just thinking about what he was going to do, and then he was ready to pop my cherry. He said he wanted to do it facing me, like he would with a girl, so he had me lie on my back and drape my legs over his shoulders. I was really apprehensive about what was to come, but what the hell! He was my best friend after all and hopefully this would make him forget about all of his other problems and concerns.

Carefully, Jordan poised his engorged member at the entrance to my love tunnel and told me to relax. Yeah, that’s certainly easier said than done. Shortly after issuing that piece of advice, he started to apply some pressure and it wasn’t long before the head of his penis penetrated the ring guarding the entrance. I winced in pain, as a slight burning sensation swept through my rectum when the helmet penetrated me for the first time, but I wasn’t about to let Jordan know about it or stop him at this point. I’d just buck up and take one for God, country and my best friend.

Jordan had grown considerably in that area since we’d first started our sex games, so now he had nearly seven inches [17.5 cm] of hard boy tool beginning to penetrate an area that was basically designed as an exit. Even though his dick wasn’t extremely plump, I still felt a small amount of discomfort as he continued to work it into me.

Jordan had eased nearly half of his rod into my cavern by this point, so he stopped and asked me how I was doing. Using the best show of bravado I could muster, I told him it was a stroll in the park. I think he saw through my little deception, but he still kept inching his woody into me until I could feel the front of his legs pressed against the back of my butt cheeks. Jordan stayed in this position and gave my tunnel time to adapt to his tool being in it, but when he felt I was ready, he began with long, slow strokes in my love canal.

I was shocked that the small amount of pain I had felt was slowly being replaced by waves of pleasure, especially when his penis brushed against my prostate as it glided in and out of my hole. The rhythm Jordan was using proved to be quite pleasurable for me and I was sure his future girlfriends were going to love being stroked by this handsome, young stud.

I heard myself moaning as the tingling and enjoyment overtook my body and I couldn’t believe that this was making me feel this good. I’m not gay or some faggot’s queen, and I was only doing this to help out a friend. That’s all. This will probably be the only time I ever do it, because I was not going to be anybody’s girlfriend or some guy’s boyfriend. Let’s get this straight. I ain’t no fucking queer.

Jordan was hastening his pace and stroking me faster and faster as we continued. I knew he would soon be blowing his load up my chute and I was prepared for it to happen. The look on his face was priceless, as he prepared to make his first deposit ever in someone’s love bank and I knew that my sacrifice was well worth whatever discomfort, pain or humiliation that it might have caused me. I just hoped it would fill him with pleasure, allow him to sleep soundly and make him forget his multitude of worries.

Jordan was now really getting into it and started to fuck like a bunny, in short rapid strokes. It was then that he arched his back, drove his dick into me as far as it would go and sprayed my slightly raw lining with his hot boy spunk. Several bursts of jizm filled my intestinal tract as Jordan reveled in the pleasures he’d just received, lost in the afterglow of his virgin fuck. He was completely spent and collapsed on the bed next to me, as his chest heaved in the lasting excitement of the moment. I was also worn out from this sexual workout and elected to just lie on the bed next to my best friend, as I waited for him to come down from his orgasmic high.

Jordan remained motionless for several minutes, before he rolled over, looked me in the eye and spoke.

“I knew fucking was going to be great, but that was totally unbelieeeeeeeevable. Tony, you are the absolute greatest friend ever. I love you, man. I really, really love you.”

“You’re welcome, but let’s cut out this love shit, ok? This isn’t a bromance. I only did this to help a friend and I will never do this for anyone else. I hope you enjoyed it, because we’ll probably never do this again. Are we clear.”

“Perfectly, but I still love you. You’re the greatest friend in the world. It’s your turn now. Go ahead and get me ready.”

“Jordan, you don’t have to do this,” I responded. “It’s not necessary.”

“I know, but I want to do this for you too,” he stated. “If I knew that you weren’t going to let me return the favor, then I would never have agreed to do it with you in the first place. You’ve been so great about all of this, so don’t make me feel guilty now, by not letting me do the same thing for you.”

After saying this, he flashed me that patented pleading look of his. I tried to turn away and ignore him, but he reached over and pulled my face back toward his own. After looking at that pathetic puss of his, I eventually acquiesced, once more, and let my friend have his way.

Jordan tossed me the bottle of baby oil and rolled over onto his back. I lubed up his hole and my pole, the same way he had done to me earlier, and then I positioned my throbbing cock in front of his bull’s-eye. I must admit that even though it wasn’t what I’d always pictured about losing my virginity, I was quite excited about my first piece of ass, even if it was my male best friend and not a girl.

I slowly started to apply a slight pressure against his anal opening, as I attempted to push my dickhead past the firm ring of his rosebud. My effort was rewarded by the sudden surrender of his sphincter and the tip of my dick entered his butt for the first time. I immediately looked into his eyes, to see if he was suffering any pain, but he seemed to be doing fine. I paused just the same, to allow his body time to adjust, before I continued the assault with my 7.75” [19.7 cm] fairly thick, weapon.

When I felt he was ready, I started to work my prick further up his tunnel until I rested, balls deep, into his satiny, smooth hole. I then gave him time adjust to the size of the intruder, before I began to withdraw and then redeposit my throbbing cock in his virgin ass. I tried to keep a slow, steady pace, as Jordan had done, but I was too overcome with the pleasure and started to ravage his asshole with quicker and quicker strokes.

I never thought fucking a guy would feel this good. I’d always considered it sick and disgusting, but this wasn’t bad at all. I quickly became lost in the pleasures that was shooting throughout my body and gradually overtook me completely, so I began to jackhammer into his bunghole. He was so tight and smooth that I could feel his lining slowly milking me and enticing my testicles and prostate to produce my love juices. All of this was sending me over the edge and I could feel the boiling down deep in my loins, which was informing me I would soon be forced to empty my semen into his bowels.

I was now stroking in and out of him so fast that my cock was only a blur and I had left the realm of virgin males, never to return again. Those electrical sensations were flooding throughout my body, as my climax engulfed me, so I stiffened, arched my back and drove my penis into my friend, as far as it would go. I remember screaming aloud as my scalding boyhood exploded from my prick and flooded my partner’s channel. My head was spinning and my eyes were temporarily blinded, as brilliant flashes of colors and shapes whirled in my mind. As soon as the last of my juices had been drained into him, I slumped forward, on top of Jordan with my cock still buried deep inside his ass. I remained completely motionless, until Jordan finally managed to get my attention.

“I hate to disturb you, dude, but you’re crushing me,” he wheezed. “You’re going to have to get off of me before I suffocate or you smash something that I might need later.”

“Sorry,” I apologized, as I rolled off of him. My cock made a ‘plopping’ noise as it was forced out of its pleasure giving home. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” he conceded. “So, how did you enjoy it?”

“It was fucking incredible, Jordan, absolutely incredible,” I confirmed. “Thank you for talking me into doing it to you. Only a best friend like you would ever think of my pleasure over his own. Thanks again, bud. You’re terrific.”

“You’re welcome, but I had a great teacher,” he teased. “You’re the one who taught me that I could get more out of pleasing a friend than I could out of trying to please myself. You’ve always been there for me, even when it was hard on you, and I wouldn’t think of doing anything less in return. This was to reward you for the loyalty and devotion you’ve shown me in everything that you do. You’re my hero, my role model and my best friend. Anything I am or anything that I do is because of you.”

“Hey, we’re good friends and all, but don’t go overboard. You’ve always been the other half of my soul, my brother in spirit, if not in blood, and I wouldn’t feel complete or satisfied unless you were happy and enjoying life. Now, that’s more than enough of that. Let’s get some sleep so we can help your parents tomorrow, because there’s still a lot of work to do.”

We went to sleep, and sometime during the night I felt Jordan’s arm drape itself over my chest, as he kissed me on the cheek. Actually, I thought that was a perfect ending to a wonderful day.

When our vacation ended, we returned to school. It wasn’t long after that before the basketball season finished up, with us having a record of 10-2. I didn’t feel as if I had much to do with the team’s success, but Jordan managed to have another fine season. I don’t think anyone was surprised though, because we’ve all come to expect that from such a terrific athlete.

As the winter started to fade, we all began to look forward to spring. I was walking the two brothers home one day in mid-March and when we entered the house, we discovered their father crying in the living room. He must not have heard us enter, because he quickly turned away and tried to dry his tears, as he made himself look presentable.

“Come in, boys, and sit down,” he greeted us, although none of us were fooled by his sudden transformation. “I need to speak with you.”

“What’s up, Dad?” Justin inquired.

“Yeah, what is it? What’s wrong?” Jordan followed.

“Just listen, because I need to tell you something,” he stated. His eyes were red and puffy, but I could tell he was also fighting to maintain his composure. “I’m sorry, boys, but your mother is… well… she’s gone.”

As soon as he said this, he started weeping again.

“Gone? You mean like in dead?” Jordan screamed, but his father could only nod in the affirmative. “But how? Why?”

We were all crying now. No, to be more precise, we were actually bawling hysterically after hearing this news. We thought she was getting better, so this came as a total surprise.

“The doctors said,” Dad K began, his voice cracking with emotion, “that there was more cancer ravaging her body and she just couldn’t fight it any longer. Your mom had a heart attack about an hour ago and left us. She’s at peace now and her suffering has finally ended. She’s in heaven with God and we’ll all see her again, sometime in the future.”

“But… but…” Jordan started, except he wasn’t able to finish his thought.

Instead, he began bawling even harder than I had ever seen him cry before, not that I’ve ever seen Jordan cry very often. I wrapped my arms around him and drew him against my chest. I was trying to comfort him, but I had absolutely no idea what I should do. I looked over his shoulder to see his father holding Justin in the same fashion, as the room filled with falling tears and the sounds of uncontrollable sobbing from four grief stricken males. We all felt totally helpless and sooo alone. How could this happen? She had seemed to be doing so much better, so how could God take her from us now, after everything we’d been through?

Later, after things had begun to settle down a bit, I called my parents and told them the news. They already knew about Mom K, because they’d heard the news from a friend who worked at the hospital, so I asked if I could stay with Dad K and the boys and do what I could try to help them through this. My parents agreed, without hesitation, and my mother said she would pack some clothes up and have my father drop them off for me.

I was about to thank her for doing this, but she thanked me instead. She then went on to tell me I was a good son and an even better friend, so she was very proud of me. My dad dropped my things off about an hour later, along with some food for our evening meal, but none of us felt much like eating and only picked at the food. Even though I was really sad, I was also very proud of my parents for their generous gesture to help a grieving family of friends.

That night, I asked both boys to sleep with me, since I knew Dad K needed some time alone to work things out for himself. We crawled into bed, with one on either side of me, and I wrapped my arms around their bodies and pulled them against me. They each had one arm draped across my chest, as they reached across to touch their brother in a comforting fashion. All I could do was to hold them tightly to me, as I attempted to let them know they were not alone. I was hoping this would combine our strength together and help see us through the darkest period of our young lives.

Even after we awoke, I tried to do everything I could for them. I led them to the toilet and waited for them until they were finished and I also had to dish their food out for them when we ate or otherwise they probably would have gone hungry. The boys were in such a complete daze that I actually had to get into the shower with each one and help clean them up for the calling hours and the funeral. I also had to help them get dressed and tied their shoes and ties before we left.

I stayed by their sides nearly every minute we were at the funeral parlor as well. Every time they looked at the casket they would start sobbing again and I would try to comfort them, as best I could. Even though I was feeling as badly as they were, I knew I had to be strong for them and be the rock on which they could depend for stability. Those few days, from the time we first were told about Mom K’s death and up until the funeral, were by far the longest three days of my life.

I sat between Jordan and Justin at the church, while the priest delivered the eulogy, and I also stood beside them at the cemetery, during the graveside service. They both swayed back and forth as the service was conducted, since their knees were failing them, due to their grief and lack of decent sleep. This was, by far, the worst time for the boys throughout the entire three days and the two of them totally lost it when the coffin was slowly lowered into the ground. It was as if that small action had brought the reality of the situation crashing into their consciousness and weighing on their souls.

I rode with them back to their house and led them directly to Jordan’s room. They needed to avoid contact with all of the guests that were wandering through the house to express their condolences, while idly chatting and eating the food that so many others had provided. I realized it was not something the boys would appreciate or benefit from, so I felt it would be better if they avoided the sympathy the others would try to offer. That kind of contact would only remind them of the fact that their mother was gone for good and re-ignite their grief.

Once we were alone, I helped them out of their suits and into more comfortable clothing, before I cuddled with them on the large bed. They clung to me, like tape to paper, as I kept telling them that everything would be all right and the pain would eventually go away. We stayed like this until the following morning, while only breaking from our group embrace to occasionally take toilet breaks or long enough for me to make them take a drink or have a bite to eat. These two were truly my brothers, now more than ever.

We all stayed out of school for over a week, until I was able to convince them that their mother would have been the first one to urge them to resume their lives. With great trepidation, they took their first baby-steps back to reestablishing a normal life again, but this time without their mother around. Dad K went back to work too, but his foreman was pretty much running the show and trying to take as much pressure away from him as he could. I ended up staying at their house for nearly a month, before I finally returned to my own bed.

I did talk Jordan into playing baseball after we returned, but our hearts just weren’t in it. I even talked the coach into letting Justin become the team manager, so he could be with us every day too, where I could watch over him as well. We had a mediocre season and won only half of our games, but I thought it was important for both boys to get out of the house as much as possible. There were just too many memories linked to the house that caused painful flashbacks and these mental reminders only served to punctuate their enormous loss.

Summer was nearly upon us when I began to notice the first smiles beginning to spread across Jordan and Justin’s faces, as they slowly let the burdens of grief lift from their souls. Ever so slowly, they were on their way back to their normal selves, since they had dealt with their loss, worked their way through the various stages of grief and were now nearly reconciled with what happened. Gradually, the color returned to their cheeks, the sparkle came back to their eyes and their hearts accepted the inevitability of their loss. Dad K, however, wasn’t bouncing back quite as quickly, or as easily, as his sons.

How many parts to this fucking story? Bring em the fuck on!

• No nation is drunken where wine is cheap.
  ~Thomas Jefferson

Quote:

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Originally Posted by MumblesBadly

hopefully the many smart folks on this forum feel think likewise. Or are willing to logically revisited the matter.

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Feel think sounds like some new age term describing telepathy in the fourth dimension.

The creator of "The Wire" explains why the War on Drugs is destroying the effectiveness of our police departments to solve other crimes.

http://www.theatlantic.com/video/ind...ect-on-police/

Another high profile Drug War failure.

http://youtu.be/mX-qFTqxPQQ

Goddamn that fucker Nixon!!!

Nixon Aide Reportedly Admitted Drug War Was Meant To Target Black People
“Did we know we were lying about the drugs? Of course we did.”
http://m.huffpost.com/us/entry/nixon...b03a640a6bbda1

So is this thread "official" or "unofficial"? Quit trying to confuse me.

http://i.imgur.com/8P5Goyz.jpg