Powder Finger Up The Nose

Let me begin by saying I've never wanted to be chained to a mirror and a razor blade. Put me in a bathroom with the shiniest, buffed mirror, accompanied by the most sparkling razor, and I still shake my head to refuse a blast of Bolivian marching powder. So while urinating alongside a stranger in a back alley in Cusco, I wasn't keen to insert up my nose the filthy finger that the white powder was sitting on.

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