Regarding Pulp Fiction and its possible influence on the decisions of someone administering Narcan, Pauli says:
Don't stab anyone in the heart ever with fucking anything.
Wise words kids! Thank you Pauli.
Will I ever be in a situation where I'm lying on the street, unconscious, with someone screaming in my ear "I'm taking all your dope", and will I be unresponsive, and will they see that I'm breathing fewer than nine times per minute, and will they give me a couple of rescue breaths and then shoot me in the northwest quadrant of my ass with Narcan? And if I never get to that point, is that because I was born to Pat and Kev, or because I've never been offered a drug, or because I went to college, or because my train came late one time, or because Ross asked me to remember the number 9?
Is it any weirder to imagine, given life eight years ago, that I am right now sitting in this bay window looking at this street corner, with a rumpled bed and Thao playing on these speakers, making the acquaintance of multiple people named Morgan, with varying degrees of success?
Bring your hips to me, oh bring your hips to me, oh oh. To me!
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