amphetamine logic

  • We Want Our Internet Girls Good

    Let Cat Marnell be a drug addict if that's what she wants to be. If she gets paid a boatload of money to talk about it, who cares?

  • Goodbye to All That (the End for Now)

    Amphetamine Logic was kind of making me psychotic. I sat down for lunch with my agent at an overpriced bistro on Park Avenue South. "So Cat," Byrd Leavell, literary agent extraordinaire, said. "What's new?"

  • Cat Marnell Explains Herself

    Regular readers may have noticed that Cat Marnell’s VICE column, Amphetamine Logic, has been conspicuously absent these past few weeks. No, Cat did not blow her lips off freebasing cocaine like Richard Pryor, and no, she will not be parting ways with...

  • The End, Part One

    Amphetamine Logic is coming to an end. I am better and I will continue to get better, and it doesn't matter to me that you don't want to believe this, or don't understand what it means.

  • The Cockroach and the Cokehead

    May 2012: I quit my job and burn all my bridges so I can swim. I won't realize that was wishful thinking until a few months later. Summer starts gliding by like a sailboat. I master the Dead Man's Float. I'm not working and life is a lazy river; I'm a...

  • Graffiti, Crackheads, More Cocaine, Miami (Bitch)

    I’m sleeping alone in the backseat of a parked rental car at 5 AM in a terrible neighborhood in Miami when the door opposite me clicks open and a grizzly old black drunk man slides in next to me, shutting the car door behind him. His eyes and skin are...

  • Coke Sex for Teen Sluts

    Sometimes when a dick is inside me I can’t help but think about my family. I know that sounds totally gross, but I don’t mean it in, like, an incestuous way. My dad never fucked me or anything. I think it has more to do with guilt, you know, or I’m...

  • Dawn of the Dustheads

    It's 5 AM on a Thursday and Same and I are in my apartment in the East Village, high on PCP and surrounded. All of the men are nursing 40 oz. Ballantines and the girls they brought are strangers, looking around at my strange life and into my mirrored...

  • Disappeared

    A few days ago the text came. It was from a 202 number—D.C. "Call Paul at 202XXXXXXX or your dad if you want to know what's going on," it read.