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There's nothing like getting back to nature. Sitting out here in the desert, just me, myself and I.

The Cadillac parked twenty feet away, an empty bottle of bourbon on the back seat. The sun shines down relentless, drawing beads of sweat out on the back of my neck.

Looking up woozily, a vulture sways effortlessly through the sky above. My cell-phone, smashed and useless, lies shattered on the floor nearby. Nobody can reach me now. I'm gone.

Laid out before me, my weapons of choice: LSD, crack cocaine, crystal meth, heroin, speed. But which one to try first?

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