Speaking of druggies

My first cousin, a man who shared my grandfather’s name as do I, died of complications from Heroin Abuse.  He had finally found a job he could do–picking up Portable Toilets–but developed Cancer and died a quiet, quick death.  Whitney H’s death reminded me of him, not because of any special physical characteristics, but because it is 1:03 am and I am not very coherent right now.

Better we should have a moment of silence for my cousin.  After all, anyone can give you shit like Whitney but you need a mensch like WR to take it.



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