EPISODE NINE: DIMITRI
ARCHIVAL ANCHOR: Detroit’s first African American mayor, Coleman Young, has died. He was 79. Young served an unprecedented 5 terms as Detroit mayor, from 1974 through 1993...
DIMITRI MUGIANIS: I went to his funeral, and the type of people in that line were all kinds of folks from academics and you know politicians and business people but it was mostly working people. And if they're working people in Detroit that means getting there is not that easy.
ARCHIVAL ARETHA FRANKLIN: ...as we remember one of the mayors, the greatest mayors, of all time...
DIMITRI: There weren’t a lot of non African-Americans in the line. But for those of us you know folks who have come as outsiders, the experience is more than welcoming. So it was like if you're here then, OK.
You gotta remember Detroit was not just abandoned by the white working class. It was abandoned by the working and middle class, black and white. It was just left for the poorest of the poor. What he represented was a fuck you to the establishment, to the white power structure. And so that's what moved me.
One of the things that occurred to me is, I wasn't the only junkie in that line.
And being in line and you know with a nice mellow high on was, you know, it was a nice experience actually, it was a communal experience.
There were other street people there, there were other people there, other outcasts, because there was an identification with him. There was an identification of a guy who went through some shit.
I get goosebumps thinking about it now, walking by his casket, you know, and seeing him lying there.
DREW NELLES: What did he look like?
DIMITRI: Well he had his mouth closed, which was rare. Rare for Coleman.
I admired him, and I know that there was a lot of corruption. But here's the thing about him.
Anybody who could stand up to the fucking feds for decades, and they never got shit on him, so they can say what they want, the people can say, you know, Coleman this and Coleman that, they got nothing on this dude. So I'll go to that motherfucker's funeral. I’ll walk by his casket any time.
DREW: So you go and you pay your respects and then what happens?
DIMITRI: I probably got high again. I’m sure we got high, listened to music, drove around, you know, nodded, trying to find a way to get high again. You know I mean my life then was pretty much about being a junkie.
DREW: Today on the show: the life of an addict in Detroit...with Dimitri Mugianis. Welcome to Crimetown.
DREW: What was your childhood like?
DIMITRI: I grew up in, like, you know, I was born in the early 60s, so I really grew up in the 60s and 70s.
We had a lot of freedom. Detroit was, still had an urban vibe to it. But it's a city of homes. So there were fields to play in. So there was a lot of like you know exploration, good and bad.
You know, I was following my brothers around, and I remember, maybe I was 12 or 13, and my brothers wanted us to help them move, right? They used to call me “Fat Head.” Bring Fat Head to move. I was just the stupid kid and thrilled to be with the older guys, right? So I was like ok, I’ll help your friend move.
My brother had an old Volkswagen van. We jumped in the van. We went to this house and we were just moving shit out. It wasn't until like years later that it was explained to me that we broke in that house. You know, that’s like in between paper routes and shit, right?
DREW: First, can you tell us your name and what you do?
GEORGE MUGIANIS: Yeah. My name is George Mugianis. I have properties in Detroit...
DIMITRI: My brother George, who you guys talked to, was like he is now, a bullshit artist, could get through anything, knew everybody, and George also liked to fight and get into shit.
GEORGE: Now you look back and don't see it as normal. When you’re 12, 13, 14 you just know that there’s guns everywhere. We would walk around and just kind of look like you have a gun so people would -- “Okay, why is this white guy out here?” I can't say really white because a lot of my friends would say well you ain’t white white because you're Greek or whatever. I’m like, “Alright.” It was a phrase I heard many, many times: “Well, you ain’t white white.” [Laughter]
You went up to the store to get something you had to have your game face on. I mean we had Coney Islands which are little hamburger, hamburger and hot dog places which had bulletproof glass at the counter. So when you ordered a hot dog it would give it to you through the slot. That's how violent this shit was. Little kids look at that all day long you know, and it just becomes part of them, you get indoctrinated thinking that it's just normal, you know?
DIMITRI: So, the first time I remember seeing a gun for instance, OK? It was, I was in middle school, I was in fifth grade. I’m not going to say this woman's name, because I’ll remember her name forever, because hopefully she's a grandmother and everything's cool now, right? And she was a black girl that was thick, and, under the desk she was showing a little pistol like, a little what they call, like, a ladies pistol, the two shots. And I remember looking under the desk and it was in between her thighs, and I could see her panties and her skirt, and that, that image of the panties, the skirt, and the thighs, and the pistol, like, that's like, that's like the fifth grade for me.
I remember feeling afraid and thrilled at everything about it. Right? Sex and violence and the forbidden.
ARCHIVAL FROM HOUSE UN-AMERICAN ACTIVITIES COMMITTEE: Are you now a member of the Communist Party?
ARCHIVAL COLEMAN YOUNG: I refuse to answer that question relying upon my rights under the fifth amendment…
DIMITRI: My father loved Coleman Young. He was sort of unapologetically black. And what he said at the House Un-American Activities Committee!
ARCHIVAL YOUNG: ...and since I have no purpose in being here as a stool pigeon...
DIMITRI: He said, Excuse me Senator, I think you have me confused with a stool pigeon. My father liked him because he stood up to them, because he said, you know, told them to go fuck themselves.
ARCHIVAL HUAC: ...now have you ever been a member of the Communist Party?
ARCHIVAL YOUNG: For the same reason, I refuse to answer that question...
DIMITRI: There was a definite racism within the Greek American communities and you know when they would say something about him I remember my father at weddings and baptisms like really screaming at people and yelling at them and and like -- that's the mayor and you're just a piece of shit Greek or some shit like that. Like right in their face, you know? And there was a lot of that.
My father suffered from mental illness. So he was in some deep depression and, you know he had some rage. The pressures just kind of devastated him. And then the economic turn of Detroit was also a factor. So my father sort of rose up and then fell hard.
In the house there was always that pressure, and then my father's depression growing, and sometimes his bursts of violence.
I remember that the basement wasn't cleaned once. And at like 4:00 in the morning him just coming in in a rage and waking us all up and you know slapping, you know, my brothers and I around and you know being forced to clean the basement at 4:00 in the morning or just having a bicycle thrown in your bed because you left it outside. This is the same guy who if the cops came to the house he would defend you and -- look, he made every little league game, every every play, every parent teachers conference and then there was this. There was this darkness.
GEORGE: Yeah, my father would come in, he would fly off the handle at times and upstairs, you know you're going to get the belt. And if I beat you up the stairs then you’re gonna get it more. And I do remember we always felt the worst for Dimitri because you know it -- It affected him so much more than it affected Dean and I.
DIMITRI: I was afraid often at home. I was afraid on my way to school and because I was dyslexic I was afraid at school and there was violence or an element of violence everywhere.
I remember the first time that I smoked weed, and the kind of freedom I got out of the economic pressure that was happening at my home and the kind of release from that, and the kind of release from the chaos that was happening around me.
I remember specifically my first time doing coke, 14. We were in a hotel with these girls you know, at 14. So the older guys were probably 17, 18, and we were drinking and someone gave me that first line of coke. And I remember just feeling like absolute joy. And, and, and release from all of that, like I had found that.
First time I tried heroin I was in my teens. There was a friend of mine whose brother was a junkie, and he was doing shit like robbing dope houses. We found a little bit of his dope. First we found like a syringe with a little bit of water in it, then we tried to figure out how to use that. Then we found a little bit of his dope. And we did it. And I remember thinking, I'm at peace. I'm at home. I mean, I was released. I found that sort of release from all of it.
And so it was the beginning of, you know, finding a community. So I found a safety within, within myself with drugs, and then the culture around drugs including music and art, you know, which also became part of it.
I started playing nightclubs at 14, back in the late 70s, when, when there was like, the emergence of the punk scene and then the New Wave scene, and I found my release through drugs and music, which I think a lot of people in Detroit found their release that way.
DIMITRI: I was a front man. I never played an instrument. And it's --
DREW: Can you play an instrument?
DREW: What was your band called?
DIMITRI: My band was called the Leisure Class. It used to be called Mister Unique and the Leisure Suits and then we changed it to Leisure Class. I don't remember why.
Detroit is the best place for a young musician to play. If they don't like it they will beat your ass. They will throw bottles at your head, they will run up on the stage and punch you in the mouth, and we were like provoking people. We’d just be doing some really aggressive lyrics or something like that. And then we would just And then we would just do shit like play a classical minuet at a biker bar.
And it became like a 13 piece sort of extravagant circus. We did like really out-shit in sort of, in that era. The bars that we played in were mostly gay clubs and like most of the staff were transgender women. That was my first exposure to that. A lot of them were sex workers. The bathroom was sort of by default coed, where people would be doing drugs. So it was a little bit heady for a 14 year old to like do whatever the fuck they want.
DREW: Did you like your brother's music?
GEORGE: Oh yeah. Yeah. And plus it was a blast to go to his shows. Because, I don’t know if it was smart or wrong, but he kind of put us in charge of security so most of his shows would end in fights.
He wrote this song called Young Gifted and White. It was a great song, was really good.
DIMITRI: And then Young, Gifted and White which actually sends a little cringe through my body. But actually it's a pretty good fucking parody and I wrote that shit when I was 14.
GEORGE: How did that start? We live in a house with 62 bathrooms. We own a negro who cleans them all.
DIMITRI ARCHIVAL: But it's not easy being so rich, it's so hard being so smart, so says my well-conditioned counterpart. I mean my analyst.
GEORGE: And then he had a background -- I know what I want to be, young gifted and white.
You know, why officer how dare you accuse me? My dad will take care of this. Young gifted white white white. That's how it ended.
DIMITRI: I went to New York because you know, there was the limitations of Detroit. You know, I went to New York because I've always wanted to go to New York, and you know had the idea that something would come of that, especially in that time and I think drugs had a lot to do with nothing coming of it. But it was also completely impractical.
And so, and, you know, we you know sold dope here, bagged dope in the Bronx. And at the same time making art.
I got involved with a lot of the old beatniks, Herbert Huncke was my mentor.
I was living at the Hotel Chelsea most of the time, and there on my floor was Julian Beck from the Living Theater. Don Cherry, the trumpet player from Ornette Coleman. I would see I would see Don Cherry copping dope in line with me, I’m like, Mr. Cherry, would you like my place in line? Love your work, you’re a legend. Sure kid. Yeah.
And then crack came, you know? Crack came and everything fucking changed. Everything changed.
DIMITRI: I remember the first time I heard about crack, I was working on a loading dock at the Time Life Building. And one of the guys there, one of the older dudes, I was like the shop steward, and he was telling me, I was doing dope, and he was telling me about this shit called crack, you know.
And that guy got a severance package and within like six months he was completely broke. You couldn't do that with heroin, you understand, with heroin you get -- how much heroin can you do before you just go to sleep? With crack, it was the perfect product. You just wanted more and more and more. And that would be your whole focus.
This is like ’84 or something. I called my brother, I said this shit’s coming. Things are going to be worse.
GEORGE: He called me up and he’s like, “George, there's this shit called fucking crack. It's coming through. It's going to make Detroit so fucking bad. The worst you’ve ever seen it.” And you’re like, “Worse? What the fuck are you talking about? How is it going to be worse?”
I'm talking about like, you could go to major parts of the city. All throughout, there’s rolling blackouts. There is gunfire. Shit’s burning left and right, fucking helicopters out all the time, you're seeing people leave left and right, there is no jobs. It's just it was just terrible. And I go, “What the fuck are you talking about?”
ARCHIVAL REPORTER: Here in Detroit we have seen the future...and it’s frightening. Crack rules in a city where once, cars were king.
GEORGE: It came rolling through like a wildfire. Like, holy shit.
You knew streets that you just wouldn't go up and down. One of them was up here, it was by the Brewsters and that was controlled by YBI I believe, Young Boys Incorporated. And if you wasn't buying or selling, or a cop, you had no business going up and down that fucker. None.
FBI AGENT ARCHIVAL: Here is a city of 467 homicides last year. Two hundred of those were narcotics-related. If you could wave a magic wand through Detroit and remove the narcotics for a two week period, your murders would drop, your personal crimes would drop. Your rapes. They are all interrelated.
DIMITRI: And I got involved with that -- “got involved with it.” “I got involved with the crack… [laughter] My involvement with crack, a brief dalliance which lasted, like, a decade or more.” Actually I was shooting more than I was smoking.
Basically crack feels fucking great. You know, the first the first couple hits feel amazing, it's a rush to your, to your brain. It floats through your body. You have immediate euphoria, like immediate wave of powerful euphoria, followed almost immediately by the desire to do more. And for me and for most people, leading into rapid psychosis. So I would be smoking one hit after the other, could not stop, and after that first exhilaration and joy and bliss, there would just be a descent into hell and into consuming.
I just needed more, even though I was completely paranoid. I would sit for hours watching the door handle. I would hear the crackle of police radio when there weren't any, I would hear the -- suddenly I became very important because like there was helicopters sent after me because I bought forty dollars worth of rock, right? And I would be locked in that, smoking rock after rock after rock, basically spending all the money that I had hustled all day until it was all gone. And I was left shaking and sweating and wanting more. That's the fucked up thing. It makes you miserable and you want more.
You know, that was when I stopped really becoming, being an artist at all. You know that's where like, my drug use had just you know, brought me there. And then of course when that stopped, then I was just left with like nothing. It feels great, it does what it's supposed to do for you. And then it takes over completely.
DIMITRI: So, my plan to get sober was to leave New York to run after hours clubs with my brother. Back in Detroit, we had three of them going at Seven Mile and Woodward.
Club Heaven, which was pretty famous house place, you know primarily gay and transgender black people. We had an alterna-rock place underneath it. And then we had a bar called Another Fucking Bar.
GEORGE: Yeah, hell, I remember when Dennis Rodman was missing for 12 days. He's out at our place, you know he was. He knew about Club Heaven and a few months later he's in a dress. I wonder if we had any influence on that one, you know?
One of our taglines was you know “come back to the city your parents abandoned” you know? Fuck, we used to have white flight night: Tell us what part of the city your parents ran from and get fucking drinks half off. That’s the truth. Come back to the city your parents abandoned, Another Fucking Bar: Detroit, you know?
DREW: You told us before that you had a big picture of Coleman Young on the wall?
GEORGE: Oh yeah, I had a huge mural of him up on the wall and it said, “MFIC”, because that’s what he had on his desk: Motherfucker in charge, right?
DIMITRI: To say I’m the motherfucker in charge and actually be in charge, it’s kind of fucking cool.
GEORGE: And the brothers are coming thinking, “Are they making fun of my hero”? Because the place is called Another Fucking Bar, AFB. And the white people come and go, “Oh, he ruined the city”, and you're like, “What do you mean, fucking ruined the city,” you know? Coleman was a good mayor.
DIMITRI: It was a fun time was also completely chaotic, my drug use was spinning out. I went to detox, but I never went to rehab. I just didn't think it would work, right? I mean I probably went through cold turkey 30 or 40 times. And it would work for a minute or a week or three weeks and then I would go back to using.
GEORGE: When Dimitri was doing it it affected me a lot because you can't protect him, and when you would see him and he’s high and having the half-nod and the cigarette and all that kind of stuff, that’s a bad scene. You have restaurants and you’re constantly having to order spoons cause the fucker kept taking all the spoons, you know? It was like, everybody who works there knows about it. But, I mean, by the end I remember my my prayer was that he would, um, that my parents would die before he did, you know?
ZAC STUART-PONTIER: What's it like to try to kick cold turkey? You said you went to that process 30 times. What's that -- what does it feel like?
DIMITRI: It's pretty hellish. I mean the thing is that they say it's flu like symptoms. Right? [laughs] It's completely ridiculous to say that. First of all you can't get comfortable. Your bowels are just wide open, so you are -- you know, after being constipated from, from the drugs you're thrown in the other direction. It's hot and cold chills, severe bone aches. Incredible emotion. For men, sometimes you're just like having spontaneous orgasms. I mean, not fun ones just like you know in the midst of all of that, you know like, oh great. Like --
DREW: Wait, really? I’ve never heard of that before.
DIMITRI: Oh yeah man. One of the things is that like after you kick, like guys will go back because they become hair trigger. So the wind blows and you cum right?
So there's all that and then there's the idea after you've kicked several times and you're getting older, first of all it gets way way worse it gets worse every fucking time. And then the idea in the back of your mind like, I'm going go for three days four days maybe a week. I’ll start to feel better and then I'm going to use again, what the fuck am I doing? And then also crushing depression, regret. I mean I kicked in Detroit so many times and just went right back out and used again, you know? And it -- there becomes a point of absolute despair. You know, like your life will never be other than this.
DREW: So can you tell us a little bit about Dimitri's wife?
GEORGE: Uh, Barbara? Barbara was a blast. She was just a blast. She was so great to talk to. She was bright, she was funny. She was definitely tough. She was a really good person. I really, definitely miss Barbara.
DIMITRI: I met her in New York. She was an actress and a ballerina. Beautiful, beautiful girl kind of looked like Isabella Rossellini.
And we lived in the Hotel Chelsea for a while. It was an interesting life. The heroin was still working you know, and it worked for many years and our relationship grew. But then it just got hard.
She was injecting and was using the same needles over and over again, she got endocarditis, which is an infection of the heart.
I was staying at my parents house, I was in the basement. We knew she was sick. I knew she was in the hospital. The family was really pissed at me, they wouldn’t talk to me, so my brother George was calling the hospital.
GEORGE: I had befriended a nurse on the phone who every day would call in and I would ask about her condition and then report back to Dimitri. So I would call in and talk to the nurse and then Dimitri ask me how she and I would go and talk to Dimitri about it. So I went over my parents’ house and I made the phone call to the nurse one day and she says I'm sorry but I really can't talk and talk to family members since she was just being a little bit more standoffish and I said to her, I go, is Barbara still with us? And then she goes, no, I'm sorry.
I remember being numb sick wanting to throw up and knowing that I had to go and get it tell him immediately because he was waiting for me to say something.
And then I had to go down and tell Dimitri that Barbara had died and that screams still still haunts me.
DIMITRI: One morning he came in and said she’s dead. It was a few days before Christmas. And I remember just screaming, and I, have never had that effect on me where I just was vomiting, I just vomited and vomited, and that just set me into like a deep deep spiral. I didn't see any way out. She was pregnant. I didn't know she was pregnant until after she passed away.
So, the guilt just sent me into a deep black hole, which I stayed in for about five years going deeper and deeper and deeper. And I was turning 40, and every morning I would wake up and first thought was suicide. Every night, my last thought was suicide. I just simply wanted to die.
DREW: How did you get out of it? How do you get clean?
DIMITRI: The normal route wasn't working for me. I had heard about this stuff called ibogaine.
Ibogaine is a alkaloid of the Iboga plant which is found in Central West Africa, Gabon. When ingested it basically eliminates withdrawal in folks who are on opiates or opioids. Finally I just said fuck it, let me try this.
I went and did the treatment in Holland. George came with me. He’s like, “Wait a minute, you’re going to Amsterdam to get off of drugs and you’re gonna trip?” He goes, “I think I’m comin’.”
GEORGE: If somebody tells you, “Stick your finger in the light socket three times and your brother’s gonna be cured of heroin,” you’re going to fucking try it. I remember Dimitri being a bit nervous about it and really wanting to do it, you know? I mean, that’s the thing, he really wanted to do it.
DIMITRI: There's like a windmill at the end of this fucking field of tulips literally, with fucking canals and shit, right? And this Israeli hippie lady who's giving it, with all her kids running around.
GEORGE: It was really surreal so to speak because iboga makes you hallucinate and if you ever want to have a completely boring time, sit next to somebody tripping for a couple days, alright?
DIMITRI: You have to be in the beginning of withdrawal. Okay, so like 12 hours in, so you’re, you got, you got chicken skin and you're tearing up and your nose is running. You take a small amount of it, a test dose, and the sickness immediately goes away.
So it was given to me and I had to like swallow this nasty shit. And then you know, over the course of like an hour or so I was given more and more, and then I went into a deep deep trip.
And when you close your eyes all kinds of shit will appear. I would see scenes of humiliation in myself. I would see myself as a child, in front of a second grade class unable to read while this woman berated me, right. I could see the faces of people who had died. At one point the entire room filled up with my dead.
I saw my brothers beating up guys, you know, I saw, I saw my father as a hurt person. And I had a lot of compassion for him.
And Barbara's death, you know, I processed that. I knew it wasn't my fault, and just being free from that. You know, I mean, I was sad about it, I could grieve it but it wasn't about me.
And I was able to wash it away in a forgiveness of not only other people, but myself.
I remember waking up without even really realizing it, but I had no desire to use, use drugs, and I was in Holland.
I needed a year to sort of recuperate. I got into a 12-step fellowship, fellowship in Detroit is fucking amazing, because those same cats that you know that were selling the dope are now in there, and you could see them as full human beings. The first day coming back into Detroit to the place I used to cop, summer day. There's only two other Caucasians in the entire room of 100 people. And they asked for newcomers and I remember walking up and they have a thing in Detroit, I'm going to cry if I talk about this too much. But everyone starts clapping. And I'm walking up to the front and a guy gives me a hug and then all 100 people, one at a time come up and give me a hug. And by the time I was done I was like in a puddle.
DREW: So Dimitri was just totally clean after that?
GEORGE: Yeah. Yes. Crazy. I mean totally clean. Dimitri is the same person now as he was when he was 5 or 6 years old. Everybody enjoys being around him. And I'm so happy about that that you know I'm so happy that my and my kids get to experience that, what have you. And yeah, he's a good person. We're lucky, you know?
DIMITRI: Just see if you can kind of touch base with the sounds. Allow yourself to go into your body...
DREW: So what are you doing today?
DIMITRI: Right now, I’ve got a part-time gig, I work in East Harlem at a harm reduction agency, a needle exchange. We run a holistic component, which is like, I don't know how the fuck that happened but like, we do tai-chi we do yoga, we we do acupuncture, sound meditation. So you know I spend my time traveling a bit, and like I fucking, I wake up and do whatever the fuck I want every day. It's just fucking amazing. You know, even at my job, I can't believe it’s my job, it’s part-time, I can't believe it's my job. Like what? And then every Thursday we have a ceremony, where I just play drums, and sage and talk and sing and dance. That's my job, and then do yoga with junkies.
DREW: Next time on Crimetown: after Coleman Young's death, a vacuum opens in Detroit's power structure...and an ambitious young politician named Kwame Kilpatrick sees his chance.
ARCHIVAL KWAME KILPATRICK: Now it’s time for all of us to rise up, and begin our future, right here, right now. God bless you and thank you.
DREW: Crimetown is Marc Smerling and Zac Stuart-Pontier. This season is made in partnership with Gimlet Media and Spotify.
This episode was produced by Samantha Lee, Ryan Murdock, John White, Rob Szypko, and Soraya Shockley.
The senior producer is me, Drew Nelles.
Editing by Zac Stuart-Pontier and Marc Smerling.
Fact-checking by Jennifer Blackman.
This episode was mixed, sound designed, and scored by Kenny Kusiak.
Original music this season composed by Homer Steinweiss.
We recorded some original music at Rustbelt Studios in Detroit in partnership with Detroit Sound Conservancy. Special thanks to Carleton Gholz and Maurice “Pirahnahead” Herd.
Additional music by Kenny Kusiak, John Kusiak, Jon Ivans, and Edwin. Additional mixing by Bobby Lord.
Our theme song is “Politicians In My Eyes” by Death.
Our credit music this week is “I Love You More” by the Leisure Class.
We’ve started a Crimetown companion playlist on Spotify. And this week we added a couple of Leisure Class songs, as well as some other classics of Detroit punk. Head over to crimetownmusic.com to check it out.
Archival research by Brennan Rees.
Show art and design by James Cabrera and Elise Harven.
We’re on Facebook and Instagram @crimetownshow, and on Twitter @crimetown.
To learn more about Dimitri’s work, you can visit dimitrimugianis.com. Guess what? He’s got a podcast too. You can also donate to New York Harm Reduction Educators, where Dimitri works, at NYHRE.ORG.
Thanks to the Detroit Free Press, Peter Bhatia, Jim Schaeffer, Mary Schroeder, Allie Delyanis, Mary Wallace, the Walter P. Reuther Library at Wayne State University, Melissa Samson, the Charles H. Wright Museum of African-American History, the Detroit Historical Society, Brendan Roney, James Rasin, Javid Soriano, and everyone who shared their stories with us. Detroit is an amazing place, and we’re honored to tell a small part of its story.
Alex Blumberg is the podfather. I would see him copping dope in line with me, I’m like, Mr. Blumberg, would you like my place in line? Love your work, you’re a legend. Sure kid. Yeah.
DIMITRI: On Saturdays, I’d go to the methadone clinic, I’d get my methadone. We’d go buy a bunch of dope, because I had the day off, and I'd shoot up and listen to This American Life.
DREW: Really? [laughter] It’s also like the whitest drug experience I think I’ve ever heard. It’s like what I would do if I were a heroin addict.
DIMITRI: It’s perfect, actually, man. This American Life is perfect for heroin.
DREW: Why, cause it’s so like, sleepy?
DIMITRI: Yeah, like his voice is so like, yeah you know. “And here's the thing.” “What’s the thing?”
DREW: That's amazing.