Snuff: The New Craze That’s [Probably] Killing Your Teens
Back when we were kids, all the cool cats in the school yard were doing cocaine and cigarettes. It wasn’t even exclusively for cool cats. Dweebs, meebs and sporks were getting down on it [even Larry!]. It was totally innocent and nobody got hurt. After all, we were kids. Kids would never try anything dangerous. But that was then, this is now. Kids these days, with their RC Edge Cola and Nokia N-Gage Gaming Devices, they don’t understand the difference between right and wrong. Lurking under the counters of bodegas across the county is a sinister substance that’s taking the kids by storm. It’s called snuff, a concoction that appears to be the mixture of cocaine and cigarettes. Doctors from around the block are scrambling to figure out where this powder came from, how long it’s been there and most of all, if more can be made. What they discovered was…well…not very shocking.
Snuff, one of the original uses of tobacco, was initially discovered by a crony working for a certain Mr. Columbus, circa 1493. Of course, the crony did not discover it himself, but he stole the idea and passed it around to white men across the world. For centuries, it was frequently used behind closed doors by important-looking figureheads and boring wig-wearing fucks. After spending decades in the proverbial crapper, the Snuff Industry is finally seeing the light of day, with a new and hipper clientele: YOUR KIDS! Theorists have theorized a theory that Snuff became immediately popular with the kids shortly after Horse Racing piqued their interest. I first became aware of Snuff through my homeboy, Jeffy, a teenager I met at the track. He explains simply:
“Ah saw deez guys dat wur hittin trifectas like no bodies biz ahn ah jus had 2 see what there secrete wuz. Lil brown powder. Helps em think much.”
Snuff is finely ground tobacco that is usually flavored. It is ingested through the nasal cavity in recommendedly small doses. I interviewed Ali Washington, proprietor of the 2 & 7 Deli near the Race Track. Being a man of few words, he had this to say:
“Before, people weren’t buying it. It was just sitting there, in the case. Now people are buying it. It’s very good.”
Although the kids seem to be having a good time doing the stuff, as a reporter, I knew that I had to investigate the deadly side effects. As a proud smoker of 3 packs a day, it was my duty to try it firsthand and expose the stuff for what it really is. Could it be the Candy Cigarette version of Heroin or will it put you on the expressway…to death? In order to get a clear account of what happened and prevent bias/skewed memory, I kept a log during my snuff binge. Here is that log, fully edited and unabridged:
10:13 PM – I arrive at the apartment on time. Made sure to find building B without being seen and knock on the door 5 times to the tune of “We Built This City On Rock And Roll”.
Joe Boz Scaggs [not to be confused with Boz Scaggs] answers the door. He offers me a beer. I ask him if he actually wrote “Lido Shuffle”. He says no. We’re going to do snuff.
10:16 PM – He pulls the can of snuff out of a bag. I inspect the substance to be just like I expected. Fools gold for a heroin addict.
10:21 PM – I’m chickening out. I don’t trust it one bit. Boz offers to do it first, which he does with gusto. He appears to be alive and well. Even radiant.
10:26 PM – Still afraid, like the kid on the diving board.
10:42 PM – Fuck it, yolo!
10:43 PM – It’s really not that bad. One side of your face goes numb and it smells pleasantly of wood or somebody’s basement or something.
10:44 PM – I want more. NOW!
10:52 PM – 6 bumps in and I don’t feel all that different. Maybe a cigarette will accentuate it.
11:12 PM – Kids would like this stuff. Sooo boring! They wouldn’t know fun if it bit them on the ass and showed them a good time. That doesn’t make any sense. This stuff is pointless. Maybe I need to do more.
11:19 PM – It occurs to Boz and I at the same time. The drips. The thing Marky Mark talks about in Boogie Nights. Except the fluid running down your throat doesn’t taste like aspirin. It tastes like tobacco and it burns all the way down. This isn’t going to end well.
11:41 PM – I foolishly do another bump. It now hurts to exist.
12:21 AM – It might be impossible to leave the couch. My stomach might explode. I need to lay down, but doing that makes me seasick. But I’m not on a boat. Or am I? Where did Boz go?!? WHY CAN’T I BE COMFORTABLE!?!?
12:47 AM – After taking two more hits, Boz Scaggs and I decide that it would be best to flush the rest down the toilet. It doesn’t flush very easily. BUT I’M NOT PAYING THE PLUMBING BILL! AYYY-OOOOOO!!!!!!!
1:08 AM – I’m having flashbacks to the time when my cousin left a Pepsi bottle in the fridge. Upon taking a swig of it, I discovered that it was tobacco spit. This is what my life has become.
1:10 AM – Sneezing only makes it worse. But it’s so damn easy!
2:31 AM – Boz has an affinity towards watching Chingy videos. I wish I could move. Or do something great. Or get married. Or go home. Or something.
4:40 AM – After much staggering, I finally make it back to my apartment. My stairs are stupid looking. Wooden stairs. Get real. Dummies.
4:58 AM – Cold chills as soon as I hit the pillow. I’m immediately spinning. A midget is tap dancing on my soul.
6:23 AM – Breakfast is a sham. It doesn’t exist, it never existed and it will never exist. I MUST TELL THE WORLD!
7:11 AM – The world already knows. I told them. Those bastards are going to pay!
Shortly after that, I fell into a jittery sleep. I woke up 4 hours later, feeling defeated and helpless. If this is what kids are doing to have fun, maybe I’m not that fun anymore. I took a long look in the mirror and saw wrinkles. Time is flying past me and now I’m unhip. A pair of Jnco’s won’t even help me now. I might as well take out my earring, hang up my Deion Sanders jersey and call it quits.
One thing I can do, however, is try to spoil the fun for everyone else.
Although no snuff-related deaths have occurred in the last 600 years, only time will tell what deadly effects it could have on your addicted children!
Reporting for Baseball For Dinner, this is TeeCoZee, The Man On The Street™