No inserted ads: www.patreon.com/dopeypodcast The episode opens with your intro, then the bulk of the show is Hairy Tongue Will’s massive, chaotic, detailed telling of his addiction, near-death runs, arrests, relapse cycles, dead friends, and eventual recovery.Will describes the early Long Island chaos with Richie, Mike, and Lenny—everyone strung out on heroin, crack, coke, and whatever they could get. He recalls the first serious turn: showing up to a house where Lenny was passed out afte...
No inserted ads: www.patreon.com/dopeypodcast
The episode opens with your intro, then the bulk of the show is Hairy Tongue Will’s massive, chaotic, detailed telling of his addiction, near-death runs, arrests, relapse cycles, dead friends, and eventual recovery.
Will describes the early Long Island chaos with Richie, Mike, and Lenny—everyone strung out on heroin, crack, coke, and whatever they could get. He recalls the first serious turn: showing up to a house where Lenny was passed out after a three-day crack run, realizing “the demons are taking over.” Mike and Richie spiral deeper, and Will keeps managing to “hold it together” thanks to jobs, work ethic, and a strange electrical-job stabilizer that kept him semi-functional.
He details years of DUIs, probation, manipulating drug tests, smoking crack constantly while still working 16-hour electrician shifts, and thriving socially because coworkers lived vicariously through him. He normalized chaos, missing only “one no-call/no-show every two weeks,” which he considered acceptable.
Will then dives into his first short attempt at stability, living in a basement apartment. His probation officer surprises him the day after a holiday: the apartment is filled with beer cans, bongs, baggies. He fails the test, is sent back to rehab/jail cycles, and explains why Long Island addicts often choose jail over treatment. He describes his surreal time in jail—being sent to the Montauk Lighthouse on work crews, eating egg sandwiches and black-and-milds with the guards, becoming “the useful guy,” actually feeling respected and purposeful.
Back outside, he tries again, fails again, collects DUIs, cycles through companies, loses jobs, hustles side work, and repeatedly relapses. A wedding night leads to another DUI. COVID hits while he’s in jail. He gets out, starts working nonstop, earns money, piles cash in a closet, stacks crypto, reads self-help books, sleeps on a mattress on the floor, becomes obsessed with success and control.
Then he meets a girl in Tennessee. He drinks again “successfully” only when he flies there. He builds a double life—working himself numb, drinking out of state, convincing himself he’s different.
Eventually, on a work trip, he gambles, wins big, drinks an old fashioned, and secretly cooks his boss’s cocaine into crack. This reignites the obsession. Will starts traveling the Northeast and Midwest, repeatedly pulling crack-seeking missions: gas stations, high-crime neighborhoods, asking strangers, “I’m looking for some hard.” He builds drug contacts in Bridgeport, Dayton, Maine, Virginia, wherever the job sends him. He smokes in hotels, hallucinates blood on floors, changes rooms repeatedly.
He recounts the deaths of friends:
Mike, whose father turned their home into a sheet-walled trap house with dealers and bikers living inside.
How Mike died with his father selling sneakers off his dead son’s body.
Richie, who got sober then died of fentanyl after nearly two years clean.
Will’s life collapses further—obsession, resentment toward God, jealousy, terminal uniqueness. He becomes a “demon,” wanting to die like his friends. He terrifies his girlfriend with delusional FaceTimes, nine-day runs, psychosis. She moves in without knowing the truth and becomes trapped in codependency.
He stays high for 26 straight days, manipulates her with antihistamine allergy episodes to cover his psychosis, hides crack pipes around the house with ring cameras everywhere. He finally admits some truth, gives her $5,000 to escape, but she stays another nine months.
He tells insane stories:
Pretending he’s a trust-fund baby to get free crack
Getting shot at by a dealer after a misunderstanding over “two grams” vs “two ounces”
Driving through wooded roads barefoot at gas stations
Dealers trying to jump him
Becoming a mule for a recently-released dealer (Ace)
Near misses, violence, and pure street insanity
Eventually, during a pickup, he gets chased, prays for police lights, and his car breaks down. Cops descend. He gets a mountain of charges (“five decades worth”). He thinks he’ll die in prison. Bail reform gets him released. He immediately uses again for 17 more days.
A sober lawyer tries pushing him toward St. Christopher’s. Will resists, manipulates LICR, relapses again, cancels his own insurance, tries to die, and after weeks of chaos his mother gets him re-approved. He enters St. Chris, still delusional, still dangerous.
There he breaks. He admits suicidal thoughts, gets a guard stationed outside his door, hears the blunt truth—you’re the worst-off guy here and you did this to yourself. It lands. Will begins working the program: spiritual direction, grief groups, codependency, meetings, kitchen duty, everything. He reconnects with his mother in sobriety. He attends court in suits provided by the facility and ultimately receives an unexpectedly generous plea deal.
He comes home early, tries to run his own program, stays sober for months, but on Mother’s Day runs into an old acquaintance who shows him a Newport box with a pipe inside. He relapses immediately for three days, misses Mother's Day entirely.
That night, suicidal again, he receives a series of calls: first from Jordan, then from his tough sponsor, who gives him clear direction—go to a sober house, go to daily groups, go to nightly meetings, call people, build structure. Will frauds his urine to get in, but once inside, follows every instruction. He stabilizes.
He recounts being 18 months sober now, having been at meetings nearly every night, with a recent slip in commitment due to chasing an “intimate partner godshot” that didn’t work out. You reassure him that it’s fine and that balance is part of recovery.
More or less thats the whole thing! On a brand new fucko, crackead episode of that good old dopey show!
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