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10.22.2002 | link |

 

somewhere in the mid-east and on the other side of the planet, there lives a 24-year-old man named socrates.

up until four years ago, socrates was a drug addict. he did it all—crack, cocaine, acid…and there wasn’t a day that he didn’t have heroin pouring through his veins in insanely dangerous quantities.

socrates was lying in a gutter one day—strung out from another injection and nearly dead—when his leg shook its way onto the path of an irritated scorpion. the scorpion, following its instinct and without hesitation, planted its raised stinger firmly in the yellowed flesh of socrates’ ankle.

but socrates did not die. in fact, he swears on a stack of holy bibles that the unsuspecting scorpion crawled a few inches, then slowly toppled over—dying from an apparent drug overdose.

(and incidentally, that’s when socrates found jesus.)


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