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Shortly after 9 on a windy night in March 2010, 25-year-old Rick S. was desperate for a fix. The all-too-familiar symptoms of OxyContin withdrawal were setting in: the nausea, the heart palpitations, the panicked realization that if he didn't get his hands on some pills, he would soon have hell inside him. Fortunately, the prescription painkiller was easy to score in suburban San Rafael, thanks to a Marin man known to some as Mr. C.

Or C-Note. Or White Money.

Cody Wisecarver
Photos courtesy of Cody Wisecarver.
Cody Wisecarver
The Oxy Life: Cody Wisecarver posted these images to his Facebook page. His MySpace profile picture is Al Pacino in Scarface; that page also includes a photo folder titled “Hot Ass Linsday Lohan.”
Photos courtesy of Cody Wisecarver.
The Oxy Life: Cody Wisecarver posted these images to his Facebook page. His MySpace profile picture is Al Pacino in Scarface; that page also includes a photo folder titled “Hot Ass Linsday Lohan.”

Or, to Rick, simply Cody — the drug kingpin with the personal touch.

Through the shadows Rick spotted Cody's SUV. As he approached it, he was vaguely aware of men lurking in the darkness. Were they watching him? Maybe, but the itch in his blood compelled him forward.

Little did he know that he was about to help the Marin County Major Crimes Task Force finally nail the elusive Cody Lee Wisecarver, one of the Bay Area's highest-volume pill peddlers.

At just 25 years old, Wisecarver had become the area's go-to source for young adults looking to abuse prescription painkillers for a high. The cops estimated that he was selling up to 1,000 OxyContin pills per week for between $30 and $50 apiece. Wisecarver's lifestyle seemed to corroborate that success: sports cars, expensive clothes, strippers, champagne, and VIP treatment in nightclubs. Such tastes didn't necessarily distinguish him from other trustfunders from the San Francisco suburbs; indeed, Wisecarver is a child of privilege, the son of American Canyon councilwoman and 2010 mayoral candidate Cindy Coffey. (Coffey has declined to comment on the story.) But above all else, he was a businessman, and right now, he was in the business of dealing Oxy, sometimes called the synthetic version of heroin.

"Everyone I knew was addicted to Oxy," says one of Wisecarver's former customers from Novato. "There were all these yuppie-type kids from Marin County, people with the right upbringing, and all of them were becoming addicts."

Wisecarver himself told prosecutors he had just been providing a "public service" — keeping his Marin clientele off the mean streets of the Tenderloin. "People think I've destroyed lives, but I don't believe that," he says. "The parents who hate me say I'm the one who corrupted their kids, but I wasn't force-feeding anybody. They were already hooked, and they were going to do drugs no matter what. With me, they were safe."

Back in San Rafael, Rick S. paid for his pills and stuffed them in his wallet. He then hurried back to the car he had borrowed from his mother and left to get high.

But just as he hit the freeway, flashes of red and blue lit up his rearview mirror.

He pulled over.

The cops had detained Wisecarver, too. It didn't take long for them to unearth the evidence: $2,000 in cash, pay/owe sheets, burned tinfoil, pipes, and of course, OxyContin. This time for Wisecarver, there was no way out.

It's late 2011, and I have driven six hours north of San Francisco to meet inmate AE8274 — aka Cody Wisecarver — at the California state prison in Susanville, a rural community near Nevada. It's a year and a half after the arrest that brought him down, and two and a half years after my own brother, an OxyContin addict, died of a heroin overdose at the age of 20.

Between 2009 and 2010, 25 percent of accidental drug-related deaths in San Francisco involved oxycodone, the ingredient of OxyContin, says Dr. Nikolas Lemos, chief forensic toxicologist at the Office of the San Francisco Medical Examiner. Oxycodone was detected in 53 of the total 209 drug-related deaths, up from 41 the year prior. By contrast, there were just 29 deaths due to motor vehicle accidents.

Wisecarver's face is childlike in its roundness, and he is dutiful and polite with the prison guard who leads him to the plexiglass viewing booth. But there's a swagger in his voice, apparent even through the muffled prison telephone. He boasts that in his glory days as an OxyContin dealer, he was "known beyond belief."

In Wisecarver's point of view, there is no shame in success. He says he bought 30 cars: a Porsche, several Mercedes, a Cobra, a California edition 5.0 Mustang. He bought a gold and diamond-encrusted watch from Jacob & Co. ("Rolex is for the over-40 crowd," he explains), and invested in top-of-the-line golf clubs and a GSR 750 race bike. He spent his 25th birthday at the Little Darlings strip club in North Beach with a group of girls "who looked like Holly from The Girls Next Door." He treated his friends to lap dances.

He also developed a taste for expensive suits, and instituted the tradition of "Suit Fridays" to showcase them. "Since I was in Marin, I needed to look the part," he says. "It's all about presentation." He had had his clothes dry-cleaned, and now washes his prison scrubs by hand.

Wisecarver's resembles many American success stories — but with a nefarious twist. Raised for much of his childhood by his grandparents in Texas, he says he was sent back to California to live with his mom in his early teens. ("All the women I have had in my life have left me," he claims. "I guess it's hard to love a gangster.") By the time he was 15, he often faced suspensions for fights and truancy. Uninspired by the thought of college, he tried his hand at a series of entry-level jobs. He didn't mind working, he says, but he was restless. He needed a challenge; something more entrepreneurial. And then, around 2008, OxyContin entered his world, and Wisecarver got to work.

"Cody was the most prolific OxyContin dealer Marin County has ever seen," says Sgt. Fred Marziano of the Marin County Sheriff's Office. "Almost overnight it became the most prominent epidemic in Marin County. Literally every single case we had was about Oxy."

After several hours with Wisecarver, I ask, "What is your response to the parents who are angry at you for keeping their kids supplied with Oxy?"

He has an answer ready. "I know what I did was wrong, but I had standards," he says. He looked out for his customers, he insists, by instructing them on how to avoid overdosing on Oxy based on a milligrams-to-weight ratio ("If you're 170 pounds, you could die doing an 80," which is a single 80-milligram tablet). He warned them not to mix alcohol with pills, a combination that can be fatal. He even claims that none of his customers died of overdoses during his run.

Nor did he ever give anyone their first pill, he vows — although he does admit that the youngest person he sold to was 15 years old. "I felt like a Nazi," he says,"but it had to be done."

After all, the kid was suffering and needed a fix.

Wisecarver eyes me through the plexiglass. "Do you think I'm guilty?"

OxyContin is not the only prescription painkiller to win a following of recreational users in recent years, but it is certainly among the most popular. Since Purdue Pharma first released it in 1996, Oxy's worldwide sales have topped $3.5 billion — and that's just the legal ones.

The drug is intended to treat ongoing, continuous pain, but users can circumvent its time-release component by smashing up the pill and snorting its powdered contents, heating the pill on foil and smoking the fumes, or mixing the contents with water and injecting the solution intravenously. Purdue Pharma has recently reformulated the drug to make abuse more difficult, but Marziano notes that people have already found ways to smoke it. Meanwhile, the old Oxy is still readily available on the streets, meaning that "the Oxy trend is definitely not over," he says.

Kristina Wandzilak, founder of Bay Area-based Full Circle Intervention and star of the Discovery Channel show Addicted, says OxyContin addiction among local kids took off "like a runaway speed train" about five years ago. She attributes the phenomenon to the perception that pills are somehow cleaner or safer than street opiates like heroin. "Oxy is more acceptable — it's less ghetto, more suburban, to be getting your drugs from a bottle. But heroin is Oxy's dirty cousin." That Oxy creates addicts is nothing new. What is: the younger, middle-class demographic that characterizes today's opiate addict — and in turn, the traditional face of drug-dealing itself.

That's where Cody Wisecarver stepped in. He had been selling marijuana since 2002, and he found he was good at it — so good that he had become the premiere pot supplier in Marin. "There were certain circles in which weed was sold, and I strategically picked the top one or two people in each circle and built up relationships with them," he says. "They would say, 'Go to Cody, he'll do you no wrong.'" When OxyContin hit, Wisecarver realized had the contacts and rep to make not just a ton of money, but a shit ton of money.

"I was against OxyContin at first, if you can believe that," he says. "I saw what it did to people. It turned them into gremlins." But a business opportunity is a business opportunity. He devoured books on personal success, including Donald Trump's How to Get Rich and Tony Robbins' Awaken the Giant Within. "I learned that the key to success is to push yourself, to strive to be better, to set goals," he says. He also studied Mafia Dynasty, a chronicle of Gambino crime family boss John Gotti, and the movies Casino and Scarface. What he learned: that the big payoff comes from the big risk.

First on his agenda was squashing the competition. Wisecarver prided himself on never physically robbing anybody, so he says he paid for information and then used his connections to burglarize a major Oxy dealer in the East Bay and another one in Marin. Next up: reconnaissance. "People on the streets respected me, so they'd tip me off," he says. "I learned about the strategies of the undercover cops from the ghetto kids, where they would hide, that they never bargained to drive down the price of a pill."

Then came the establishment of a solid supply chain, which wasn't difficult since at the time there were few restrictions on Internet pharmaceutical sales. (He also claims to have teamed up with local physicians who would slip him up to 200 pills a month in exchange for double the office reception fee.) Within a few weeks, he says, he was moving some 300 pills every two days.

Customers like Rick S. say that Wisecarver's approachability set him apart from other drug dealers. He looked and acted like one of them — just dressed for business.

"People respected me because I treated everybody the same," Wisecarver says. He was shot at once in Hunter's Point, but for the most part, he could handle his business untouched — a reputation that helped earn him his nickname in black neighborhoods: White Money. "I'd park my car in the Tenderloin and walk away with $6,000,"he says.

His willingness to take gambles — such as offering three 80-milligram Oxys for $100 — paid off, and he felt one step closer to emulating his idols: Tiger Woods, Bernie Madoff, and Charlie Sheen, whom he admires because "he's rich and gets to do whatever the fuck he wants."

"Lots of times I just gave shit away," Wisecarver says. "Oxy is worse to detox off of than heroin. It goes into your marrow, it feels like icicles under your skin." He claims never to have been addicted, although at the peak of his use, he was doing about $3,000 of Oxy a week — and he knew what it felt like to detox. Other times he accepted goods and services in exchange for pills: Foot Locker shoes, golf lessons, car stereo systems, and even a Jean-Michel Basquiat painting that he says he later sold for $10,000. (It cost him 30 pills.)

And there was another reason he felt empathy for his customers: "They're doing pills because something is going on in their lives, or something happened, and they want to forget about it," he says. "Every one of these kids' drug use stems from their problems at home." That was the "public service" he argues that he provided: helping these kids through their problems but also protecting them from the big city. He had no qualms — especially if he could make his million doing it.

Whether or not Cody Wisecarver's arrest benefits Marin County, life in the Tenderloin has gone on as usual — and, true to Wisecarver's description, "Pill Hill," the area surrounding the intersection of Leavenworth and Golden Gate, isn't for the faint of heart. Shortly before 9 on a recent evening, S.F. police Officer Angelique Marin shed her uniform in the locker room in preparation for an undercover "buy-bust" operation. Illegal pills are now the source of so many arrests that the SFPD has tacked up huge posters in its precinct at 301 Eddy to help officers identify the panoply of brightly-colored tablets they regularly confiscate.

"It's like Skittles," Marin says. "'Taste the rainbow.'"

Marin pulls a ratty sweatshirt over her bulletproof vest and squeezes into a pair of tight stonewashed jeans. She smears her eyeliner, dirties her fingernails, greases her hair. Then it's out onto the streets with another undercover cop — a beefy guy with tattooed arms and a hidden earpiece — and her partner, Officer Kevin Lyons, who shadows the pair in a patrol car.

Sometimes, the cops target pill sales by launching stakeouts from concealed locations. But as any kid from the suburbs could tell you, all you have to do to score OxyContin or any other pill is simply walk down the street. Sure enough, less than a block away from the station, the offers start pouring in. Marin picks her bait: a thin man in a white T-shirt and baggy pants who offers to sell her two 40-milligram Oxys. She hands him $40 in marked bills; he spits out a tiny plastic baggie from under his tongue.

Marin disappears, and the patrol car swoops in.

This has all taken less than five minutes.

"Buying pills is as easy as buying a pack of gum," Marin says as the man is handcuffed.

Lyons says that the night's first pill arrest was an easy one. Many suspects run when they suspect the deal has gone sour. Or they swallow the pill packets. Dealers go to great lengths to conceal their wares, sewing pills into the linings of their clothing or storing them in bodily orifices: for men, the anal cavity, for women, the vagina. They expel the packets when a deal is made — addicts desperate for a fix don't seem to mind the unsanitary product. A common sight in the Tenderloin is a woman squatting between two parked cars: Most likely, she is holding pills for a dealer who controls her, much like pimps control their prostitutes. Others forge alliances with the owners of convenience stores, threatening violence unless they're allowed to stash pills in the stores. To reduce their liability, dealers never hold more than a few pills on their person at any one time.

Eddie Bridgett, a director at S.F.-based Ohlhoff Recovery Programs, says that roughly half of his clients at any given time are addicted to opiates. That number differs greatly from 10 years ago, when the most commonly abused substances were cocaine and crack. Most of these opiate addicts, Bridgett says, are white males between the ages of 19 and 28, many of them from Bay Area suburbs — and nearly all are what he calls "chronic relapsers."

Bridgett estimates that the average Oxy addict is using between 10 and 15 pills a day, a level of usage he says often requires a 28-day lockdown in order to detox, followed by six to nine months of inpatient treatment. But "it takes about two years before they can get to the point where they can even fathom staying sober," he says. The reason for the high recidivism rate among young opiate addicts, according to Bridgett, is that the drugs create such enormous cravings that even if the body doesn't physically need another hit, the mind does. "They crave them so much that they get nowhere in terms of accepting recovery, and they bounce out and self-medicate," he says.

Oxy abusers often develop an intolerance to pain, says Wandzilak, which makes interventions difficult. "Discomfort is the touchstone of life, helping us to gain experience and depth. But it's been so long since these kids have dealt with it that they just want to keep feeling numb. They know their lives are fucked up. They just don't care."

Despite Wisecarver's claims, kids from the suburbs cruise the Tenderloin, too — even some of Wisecarver's former customers. Just ask Rick S.

CHP officers confiscated his pills when they pulled him over on the night of Wisecarver's takedown. The cops took him into custody, looking for dirt on Wisecarver, but Rick S. wasn't much help. He only knew Wisecarver as the big Oxy dealer who'd have lines of kids waiting for him in parking lots. But he wasn't surprised. "If you're selling that much dope, you're going to get caught at some point," Rick S. says of Wisecarver. "Nobody's that good."

(While the cops had been surveilling Wisecarver for months, before Rick S's buy they hadn't been able to get any of the charges to stick.)

But Wisecarver's fate wasn't Rick's concern that night. After his run-in with the cops, Rick headed straight into the city, and then to the Tenderloin, where he scored another fix — and where he would soon find himself living as his Oxy addiction spiraled out of control.

By late 2010 the insidiousness of opiate addiction was apparent in the tired eyes of many of the residents of the Henry Ohlhoff House on the corner of Oak and Steiner. Among those in Ohloff's recovery programs was Rick S., who had finally gotten himself off the streets — this time, he hoped, for good.

While he remembers Wisecarver as "a nice guy" and concedes that scoring Oxy from him "sure was better than going to the Tenderloin," Rick S. doesn't buy Wisecarver's claims to have been helping Marin's Oxy-addicted kids. "He didn't create addicts," Rick S. says, "but you have a problem, and he's not helping that problem."

Like Rick S., 23-year-old Jessica is a former customer with complicated feelings about Wisecarver. (Her name has been changed.) Although he dealt Oxy, she says, Wisecarver possessed many other qualities that made him "a very intriguing person," and he's the only drug dealer she would consider a friend. Of OxyContin, however, Jessica has no qualms invoking judgment. A graduate of a private high school in Marin County, she became addicted to Oxy and heroin at college and moved back to the Bay Area in 2008 to get away from the opiate scene. But here, she says, the problem was just as bad, if not worse. By the time she found herself getting high in the bathroom while working as a Mill Valley nanny, she was at the mercy of opiates. "It's not so much that it took away the pain, but that nothing mattered," she says.

Rick S., too, suffered a quick downward descent once he was introduced to OxyContin. While it was more of a social thing at first — "You want to want what other kids want," he says — Rick S. soon found that he couldn't go more than 36 hours without doing Oxy, or he would get itchy and sweaty, and his bones would start to ache. Getting high became "a full-time job," and he spent the next few years in and out of treatment centers.

His bottom came in the summer of 2010 while sitting on a sidewalk in the cold San Francisco fog. He was contemplating suicide. "I was with a bunch of crackheads, and I realized they were all there on borrowed time," he says. "This was my reality. I was always worried about the next high."

Instead, he called his brother and asked for a ride to Ohlhoff. "Every time you screw up again, it's heartbreaking," he said, picking at the laces of his Converse sneakers. "But it is possible to get sober and stay sober."

There is still the fear that he hasn't broken the pattern, however, and Rick S. fidgets as he recalls giving up on life.

He offers this warning for kids who might try OxyContin at a party, kids who never dream they might end up an IV drug user with all its consequences: He is HIV-positive.

"If hell exists, this is what it is," he says.

That was 2010. Rick S. relapsed, but has been clean for nearly a year. Jessica has made it almost 18 months without opiates. But every day is a struggle.

Meanwhile, the days pass quickly for Wisecarver. Though his extensive criminal record had him facing up to seven years and four months in prison, prosecutors knocked that down to four years and eight months in exchange for revoking probation. Karen Lamb, the Marin County deputy district attorney who prosecuted the case, declined to elaborate on the plea bargain; Chief Deputy District Attorney Barry Borden would only call the reduction "significant," adding that Wisecarver "got a pretty good deal."

Prison has given him the chance to mellow out from the high-stakes lifestyle of a drug dealer, and he's taking his sentence as a blessing. "I'm kind of happy I'm here, because it was getting dicey at the end with the cops breathing down my neck," he says. Despite his incarceration, he says wasn't ever truly scared of law enforcement; they were simply "an inconvenience."

He's trying to upgrade his vocabulary, and fills his days with books: Terry Goodkind, Stuart Woods, the Steve Jobs biography. He's made friends with some of his fellow inmates and is proud of his new tattoos.

And he's looking forward to the future. He jokes that he needs to retire from drug dealing, but notes that "it's hard to have a legitimate business these days." He thinks he might open a strip club — or simply go back to what he does best: dealing pills. "I think about it every single day," he says. "It's all about winning, and I won."

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" He thinks he might open a strip club — or simply go back to what he does best: dealing pills. "I think about it every single day," he says. "It's all about winning, and I won."


Yea--real smart dude.  I'm sure his parole will go just as planned; back in Butt Town.  If you're going to

make money by breaking the law(which I could care less about.  Marin County is Filllllled with guy's

who legally rob you.) do it the right way--Inconspicuous.  A bunch of cars, and a Neg. Rich watch is

not copacetic.  Oh yea--you will get caught--why--because you can't trust anyone--they all Blab.


Real men do not exist in the Bay Area anymore; they have become feminized, and can't keep


jason smith
jason smith

I didnt realize the TL dealers stash in their butts and vajays. No one is ever gonna cure the TL unless they completely commercialize it like Times Square/42nd in NYC. So in light of the TL conditions maybe this dude really was doing someone a favor. I mean Marin county kids grow up spoiled, why they need oxy i have no idea.


As the ex-girlfriend of someone who was "good friends" with Cody at one point, this story is so false and completely embellished!!! Cody was NOT a respected or feared person who was held in a high regard. However, he was known for being out of his mind - which was a bit scary for some I'm sure.

Cody had more high school aged friends than friends his own age (when he was well over 22 at the time), which I always found very strange. The people that he was arrested with in 2009 were all many years younger than him.

A few true statements about Cody: he was a creep, he did not drive nice cars as stated in this story, he definitely WAS addicted to Oxycontin (I witnessed on several occasions him snorting OC & pass out mid-sentence), and most importantly, he ruined countless peoples lives.

Whether he was root of those peoples issues or not (as he justified in this story), it doesn't matter. It makes me so angry knowing that he's sitting in PRISON and somehow thinks he's Mr. Cool, still! What a SOCIOPATH. Obviously the person who wrote this story should have checked with a few more sources that grew up around Cody (or anyone in Marin County really). This story would have had a completely different tone to it.

Oxycontin has taken away several people who meant the world to me, and this story saddens me so much. Although the author states that he too, lost a family member as a result of this drug, I strongly dislike how this story somewhat glorifies Cody and what he was all about.

Oh Cody, poor Cody. I always knew you had a gigantic head....but clearly all of the drugs have inflated that large head of yours even more so.


Thanks for the truth.  If Cody just told the truth; the courts might have gone light

on his sentence.  Be careful with throwing around the Sociopath label.  I've met a lot

of dudes with a lot of degrees behind their name, and are Legal Thiefs.  Making money

in our current society, in many cases, borders on Sociopath ideology;  meaning

seemingly "up standing" citizens are taking advantage of their position.  Just because something is legal, doesn't make it Cool.  Marin County  has a lot of Doctors and Lawyers who are going to Hell. 


What a delusional dumbass




He'll get out of prison and get busted again in a year or so, won't be as much fun second time through the system - fool won't be laughing when he's 30 or so looking at 85 percent of 12 years plus a prison prior guy is a loser


The dope dealer's quotes sound like Mit Romney.


Profile of the Sociopath

Glibness and Superficial Charm

Manipulative and Conning They never recognize the rights of others and see their self-serving behaviors as permissible. They appear to be charming, yet are covertly hostile and domineering, seeing their victim as merely an instrument to be used. They may dominate and humiliate their victims.

Grandiose Sense of Self Feels entitled to certain things as "their right."

Pathological Lying Has no problem lying coolly and easily and it is almost impossible for them to be truthful on a consistent basis. Can create, and get caught up in, a complex belief about their own powers and abilities. Extremely convincing and even able to pass lie detector tests.

Lack of Remorse, Shame or Guilt A deep seated rage, which is split off and repressed, is at their core. Does not see others around them as people, but only as targets and opportunities. Instead of friends, they have victims and accomplices who end up as victims. The end always justifies the means and they let nothing stand in their way.

Shallow Emotions When they show what seems to be warmth, joy, love and compassion it is more feigned than experienced and serves an ulterior motive. Outraged by insignificant matters, yet remaining unmoved and cold by what would upset a normal person. Since they are not genuine, neither are their promises.

Incapacity for Love

Need for Stimulation Living on the edge. Verbal outbursts and physical punishments are normal. Promiscuity and gambling are common.

Callousness/Lack of Empathy Unable to empathize with the pain of their victims, having only contempt for others' feelings of distress and readily taking advantage of them.

Poor Behavioral Controls/Impulsive Nature Rage and abuse, alternating with small expressions of love and approval produce an addictive cycle for abuser and abused, as well as creating hopelessness in the victim. Believe they are all-powerful, all-knowing, entitled to every wish, no sense of personal boundaries, no concern for their impact on others.

Early Behavior Problems/Juvenile Delinquency Usually has a history of behavioral and academic difficulties, yet "gets by" by conning others. Problems in making and keeping friends; aberrant behaviors such as cruelty to people or animals, stealing, etc.

Irresponsibility/Unreliability Not concerned about wrecking others' lives and dreams. Oblivious or indifferent to the devastation they cause. Does not accept blame themselves, but blames others, even for acts they obviously committed.

Promiscuous Sexual Behavior/Infidelity Promiscuity, child sexual abuse, rape and sexual acting out of all sorts.

Lack of Realistic Life Plan/Parasitic Lifestyle Tends to move around a lot or makes all encompassing promises for the future, poor work ethic but exploits others effectively.

Criminal or Entrepreneurial Versatility Changes their image as needed to avoid prosecution. Changes life story readily.




This story is bullshit. I introduced cody to oxy. I gave it to him for the first time. This story is embellished and over exaggerated!


he was street level, this story is all lies and exaggerations


I knew cody while he was selling OxyContin. I even bought pills from him. While i admit he sold drugs, the stories about 30 cars and rolexes are lies. Cody is dillusional and belongs in prison.


1K pills @ $30/ea * 50 weeks/yr = $1.5M cash/yr. This lack of repentance for his actions makes me wonder exactly how much money he has stashed away that hasn't been confiscated. Just how hard did the cops look for his ill-gotten gains or how much can be legally seized? -mm


This is actually a well written and insightful article. Kudos to the author.

Considering the content, subject matter, and location i.e. San Francisco one might guess the article is out of place. Instead of the usual promotion of or condoning such behavior this article was written without bias.

It is unfortunate we have so many in our society who think their problems can be resolved with drugs. This article sheds light on the fact that drug use only causes further problems for the individuals involved and society in general.

The question becomes; How do we as a society intervene or prevent our youth from even thinking they need to have a drug to help them with lifes struggles?

Samsel Indstress
Samsel Indstress

cody has a point. he was consistent and always had 80's. (we would have went to the tenderloin or civic center anyways) its a shame how it all went down. but its for the better. i dont blame cody for being addicted to oxy, i blame myself. the justice system should recognize that. and good luck with the rise of 30mg roxies.


"It's all about winning, and I won."

No, you are in prison dipshit, right where you belong.


Amazing article - thank you for exposing such a critical problem in our community and around the country.

Bob Farkas
Bob Farkas

Great article. Shows how depraved this problem has become. Well done!

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