Best Places To Get Blow in NYC

In "Zagat" (i.e. unoriginal) style, here is a list of some of the best places to get Blow in NYC:

Trey Markson's Apartment, 5th St. btwn 1st and 2nd Avenues: Trey is known more for "quantity" than "quality," and though he stash is "never dry," you eventually will be for having "snorted the whole bag in 5 minutes just to get high." Make sure you "bring cash," and whatever you do, "don't wear tie-die," because "Trey hates tie die," himself being a recovering hippie.

3rd Toilet Stall, Men's Bathroom, the Roxy: If you are "gay" "curious," or just a regular "cokehead who likes blowjobs," this is a dependable place to get "an overpriced bag of blow cut with detergent" and a "blowjob" all in one. Be ready to pay "out the ass," especially "past midnight on Wednesdays when Ms. Tricia the Kenyan transvestite is 'working the register.'"

Jon Sampson's Bedroom, 21st and 1st: Sampson's bedroom, a "hidden gem" of drug havens located in a small basement apartment in Peter Cooper Village is "little known" and "off the beaten path," but "well worth the trip" for "plentiful helpings" of "excellent quality blow (for NYC." If you can put up with Sampson's "incessant, incoherent ramblings" concerning such topics as "the ongoing war in Vietnam" and "why Jane Fonda ruined America," and don't feel awkward frequently the home of a "blown out Vietnam vet who lives with his cranky Irish mother," you "won't be able to feel your tongue until 12 hours after you run out of stuff," you'll be "so high."

Plantation of "Papi" Julio Rodriguez, 100 miles south of Sao Paulo, Columbia: "Not technically in NYC," "Papi Rodriguez's" plantation in Columbia is the "birthplace" of 15% of all coke exported into the United States. If you "sneak past the obese, cranked out" guards at the East gate in the middle of the night and don't "get shot by the snipers in the guard towers" or "attacked by the pit bulls freely roming the premises," with some ingenuity you may find the "secret underground bunker" which houses the world's "3rd largest coke processing plant." Once inside, you will be a "junkie in a cocaine store," free to snort coke so pure and fresh that it will "make you're brain fly out of your head after your first bump," and possibly "cause heart failure and death." "Definitely worth the risk" for "the best shit this side of Robert Downey Jr.'s July 4th barbeques."

Jimmy's "Crack Den," 2nd floor of an abandoned tenement building, Kenmare St.: "Open" from 2:00 am till "whenever," this "Chinatown/Little Italy/Soho" "crack den" caters only to the "most serious of junkies." You'd better "know the secret knock and code" to get into the place unless "the meth-heads accidentally left the front door open again," and don't be surprised/upset if the man behind the window "gives you a bag of crack instead of a gram of coke," because, after all, it "is a crack den."

Jennifer Saperstein's parent's apartment, Park Ave. btwn 74th and 75th Streets: This " JAC" (jewish american cokewhore), who "doubles as a high school student at Dalton" first arrived on the coke-scene after an incident at her old boarding school involving "a custodian and a shetland pony." After "getting kicked out" of the prep school, her parents "dragged her back to the city," where she quickly "got in with a gang of drug dealing Dominican pimps" by "sucking dick for rock." Jen's "product is decent," and her "prices are firm," but "make sure you call ahead first" to make sure she is home, and not " in social studies class."

NYPD Evidence Locker, 6th Precinct, 1oth St. and Hudson St.: If you can "get past the bevvy of armed cops" who "work in the building," can sneak down to "room B-4 right next to the men's locker room," and "have a key to the evidence locker," you may just come across a "large stash of sticky sweet coke" that was "recently confiscated from the author of this blog." Assuming that the "pigs" haven't "snorted it all themselves," feel free to "lift the bag and throw a huge coke party," but please wait "3 to 6 months" so that the "author of this blog" is "out in time to accept your open invite to suck down shoelaces of his coke that you stole back from the man."

Please feel free to make suggestions as to other great "coke spots," as I plan to run this segment on a monthly basis while I have access to a computer. Please also don't tell my girlfriend, cause I finally convinced her that I'm officially "off the sauce."