I need it. I miss the rush, that energy-filled buzz, the exhilaration of it all. I can't remember the last time I overdosed on that powder. Grade school was probably the last time I had the experience. You'd think the cravings would be gone after such a long time, but they don't leave, they never die.

Back in 6th grade I had that pixy stix chugging contest, me and my friend Bobby. Our pancreases ached in sweet sweet sugary pain for the next month as they struggled to pump out enough insulin to keep our feeble young bodies alive.

Pixy stix, known by the street names of "kiddie crack," "anti-apples," "the Branson Bullet Train," and "Domino," are one of the nation's leading gateway drugs. You start the kids off with one stick, and the next thing you know, they're up to 6 sticks a day, they've got 30 cavities, and a mean case of ADD, all because one grandmother thought she was giving little Johnny a treat. Little did she know that she was starting little Johnny down the long path to total destruction.

My life was ruined by the stix, I started small, I'd get together for a stix with my friends, after school, but that wasn't enough. Soon, I started inhaling a pixy before school, I'd have two at lunch, and sometimes I would use a bathroom pass to sneak one in during class. I had all of the tell tale signs of a stick-head, the jitteriness, the excitability, and the "english" grin. When you hit the pixy rock-bottom it is like no other, believe me.

---
Click my "Extra-Good" Links, and also, feel free to beg me for more awesomeness, to be delivered at some point in the future.

#|