The Burnt Suburban (from Scott in SC)

Hey dopey dopes,
Having been laid up after surgery listening to your crazy ass stories I have been inspired to tell you one of my own crazy tails. The year is 2004 and I am a senior in college at Winthrop University majoring in oxycoton and minoring in cocaine. My super douchy frat brothers and I all were looking forward to Phish last stand in Coventry, Vermont. Mind you we were about 20% interested in the music and 80% interested in stealing money from the sudeo hippie vendor we were going to work for selling shitty grilled cheese and even more descusting sausage and peppers that would literally sit uncovered and uncooled in the back of the trailer before we would mildly heat them up and throw them at fellow crusties and wookies. I digress, so the scam here is that when we did a transaction we would stuff the money in these cash boxes and when they were filled we would take turns robbing them because I had slept with the owners fat gross daughter and stolen a key. Mind you this guy who owned the food truck stand thing would not only go to music festivals, bonnaroo, lalapoloosa, etc. would also go to boat shows and other various events. We would all take turns going to these events doing coke and oxy and robbing this retard blind ok. So the stage is set 3 fellow frat douches and myself are about to set off for Phish and need a large car to put all our various shit in. I was about 4 months out of my 2nd rehad and had not even considered not using but was somehow fooling my parents into thinking i was clean. So my mom had just bought one of the super nice “family truckster” suburbans and I lie to them say my new sober friends and I want to go to a NA convention and need to use her new car. So my enabling amazingly trusting mother decides to open up the lines of trust it would be a good idea to prove my trustworthyness by using the car and returing it how i found it. So we go to the show steal a shitnload of money which i in turn spend on an ounce of china white heroin and from somewhere i buy a blow tortch lighter i use to light cigs and cook dope in spoons. I liked this blow tourch because it would not leave the burn marks on the bottom of the spoon getting suit on my gay ass cargo shorts. So i thought the blow tourch I thought was out of fluid and i packed it in the back next to various other  camping this one of which included kerosene. So along the way we hit a bump or something and the button of the tourch gets pressed. It slowly starts to burn and because we are smoking so much weed, cigs and free basing coke that we were oblivious to the flames actions. Ok so the kerosine gets ignited and the car instantly fills with thick black smoke. I am driving of course pull over and there is nothing we can do. The new car with less then 1000 miles on it that is not in columbia south carolina at an NA convention but is instead in Coventry Vermont at a Phish show burns to the ground incredibly fucking fast. Because of all the axcellerants the car literally burns down to the tires. Mind you this happens in less than five min it seems. So the cops come and i try to bullshit them for a minute then shortly breakdown crying and tell them the truth abiut the Phish show, NA convention and lying. The cop then makes me call my poor mother confess and crush her entire existance. This led to rehab number 3 shsortly after but is a dope ass story. If you guys can take a break from smoking “unicorn farts” out of your vape in the next podcast please read this story. I would love love to be on the show i have tons of good ones. Sidenote my spelling is fucking terrible and i cant find out how to spell check it on this mobile app. I am a terrible speller and super self conscious about it.
Scott

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