I got peer pressured into cocaine today. Man, that stuff burns the throat and nose, keeps you up for hours, and ends up making you wish you could get some more. Red Bull Cocaine, the drink of champions, crammers, and meth addicts alike. What a fine, completely healthy thing to put in one's body.
Seriously though, it tastes kind of like how berries would taste if you soaked them in battery acid and shoved them to the back of your throat. A real pick me up that immediately made me pull out my wallet in order to try to buy another one off my friend. When analyzing this drink pure fratboy logic takes over.
"So, if one is equal to three and a half red bulls, and two are equal to seven red bulls, then if I shotgunned three I'd be seeing another fucking planet!"
Fantastic, a drink that makes the heart palpatate, the eyes twitch, and gives you a crash somewhere along the like of dropping three sleeping pills while listening to a guy prattle on how his left leg itches more than his right.
Obviously I want more, the question goes how far am I willing to go to find some. Does this mean I'll end up on my knees with two bloodshot eyes, short shorts, and some creepy guy smoking a cigarette in the corner?
Perhaps, or maybe I'll just use a fucking credit card.
3 comments:
You love cocaine in your mouth almost as much as you love little boys...in your mouth.
get another pic dude with a little boy...in your mouth...and ass
Here's the thing about little boys.......they'll never tell
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