Here is a video of some dumb lady who is all like "date rape drugs meh nonsense sniff." Cool, lady! Very good think-tanking, we are sure! I do not have fancy "numbers and facts," but I* have been roofied three separate times! I could be all mad about it, like GRRR date rape drugs! But instead I choose to think of it as people just really wanting me to fuck me, even if I am covered in puke!
The first time I was roofied was at my friend Kedric's party in downtown LA, before downtown LA was the next Brooklyn. Kedric had a fuckin' sweet pad, yo, in the penthouse of the Alexandria Hotel, which at the time was a welfare hotel on all the other floors. The elevators were excitingly full of crime! Some white douchebro types stood suspiciously near my beer as I was dancing on the dance floor at the superfun party! I had two sips of beer, and one hour later had been in the party's only bathroom for 45 minutes, "gastrointestinally distressing" for what seemed like ever, because it was! That was fun, because soooo many people were waiting outside the bathroom when I staggered out, almost on my knees, and pinballed from one wall to the other as I tried to walk 20 feet down the hall! My big brother had come to the party with me, though, and lived two blocks away, and he took me home and put me to bed, and I did not get raped that night. Better luck next time, douchebros!
The second time I got roofied, I was with a bunch of friends at Chat Noir in Orange County. It was full of old rich men, and one of them was REALLY INSISTENT I come outside to look at his Porsche with him, even though I explained that why the fuck would I care if you have a Porsche? Well, the better for the friend who stayed behind to put a roofie in the one Champagne cocktail I drank, on a full stomach. An hour later, I fell into a cab, and then threw up on myself the whole way home! Thank you, Mr. Cabdriver, for not being mad about it, and also not raping me! Good job not being a dick!
The third time I got roofied, I was having coffee with a rotating cast of Sunday morning hangers-out while I was waiting to go to the airport to fly home from Seattle. Walk to the park up the block? Sure thing, sounds nice! But then, whoops, I ended up in the park bathroom for an hour while I puked and shit and shit and puked, and when I came out the guy who had walked me there was gone. That's a bummer! Then I went back to the hotel, passed out for a few hours, begged the desk clerk to call me an ambulance as I was very, very ill, eventually got my own cab since she wouldn't, and the ER doctor would not test me for roofies, he said, because they "don't have roofies in Seattle," and also roofies don't cause gastrointestinal distress. Very good doctoring, A++, would doctor with doctor again!
In conclusion, roofies are not the threat. Not having a travel ban from West Africa is the threat. The End.
*Not my real name.**
**Just kidding, yes it is!
I thought his middle name was Walker.
For Bernardo, I think that life in prison was a much better sentence than death- which of course we don't have in Canada any more. There were lots of people screaming to string him up, but I love the idea of Bernardo locked up for decades, never having control over another human being ever again, and in fact having his every moment controlled by others who despise him. Oh and knowing that there's just a locked door between him and a general prison population who would cheerfully rip him to shreds if they could get to him. This is a just punishment. On the other hand, that bitch Homolka got out and is now the mother of children in someplace like Bermuda. So that's not good. ps, sadly, some deluded female wants to marry Bernardo, describing him as "a kind man, a Christian."