It's time to come out with it. I've got a monkey on my back.

I've been a junkie longer than anything else, besides being alive. My parents were aware of it when I was a youngster, but they figured in the long run, it kept me out of more trouble than it got me into. Once I was older and fully sucked into society's trap, I had a little money and some credit which I used liberally to gain better access. I was told by some that this bordered on excess.

As there is with every addiction there's a hitch. This stuff isn't available during the winter. Year after year I have to battle through ugly New England winters without any. I've tried many therapies to take the edge off: bright lights, intense exercise, herbal remedies, sleep, liquid refreshments, photo induced meditation, weight loss, and sleep depravation to name just a few.

I think about it even when I'm not doing it. I make preparations to fully embrace its seduction. Sometimes I think into the future and knit together strange scenarios; sometimes I think to the past and recall even stranger ones (yikes!).

Most people who I meet know of my Jones, and usually steer the conversation that way. Some do it for my benefit, others because they too are into it; although rarely with the lifelong twisted lust that I have. Some people bust my balls about it.

Like all good people who are hooked on junk of some kind or another, I've learned how to turn it in my favor. I actually have employment that supplies my need. The boss pays for my dope, and he's not cheap about it. He too has been hooked for years.

My supply returns tonight, I've been getting body rushes for two days. I hear that gentleman from the Dominican Republic will be delivering the stuff. Hoo-hoo he's all business, he rarely disappoints! Yes another seven months of the real thing! Let's play baby! We're gonna get high....HA HA.....

My name is Jake. And I'm a Red Sox fan.

What do I know?