30 years ago, Miami was open for business and awash in the booger sugar.
Cash was king, greed was good, and the skyline of construction cranes and cheap labor glistened along the coast like Peruvian flake. Even Tubbs and Crockett were knee deep in the powder while shoveling Just Say No winks during prime time. Those were the days!
Or should have been.
Since I was barely old enough to play Donkey Kong at the time, I can only look back on those frosted flakes while sniffing karosene jajo.
That sucks.
Today, that great coca leaf is nothing more then submarined paste that gets stepped on, whitewashed and turns unrecognizable in the halogen glow of some shitty bar. Long before Micky slips it to you under the stall door between Keno bets, it's garbage. You might as well drink Nyquil and go home.
Cocaine was the "it" girl, once-upon-a-time, but she had to go and blow the hockey team dressed in pearls and cheap real estate. For that, she's on the list.
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2 comments:
"unrecognizable in the halogen glow"
- biz wearing shades at the big gig
i miss good coke.
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