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~*~ the here and now. ~*~ the done and gone. ~*~ who am i? ~*~ find more like me ~*~
say something to me. ~*~ what they've said about me. ~*~ feel left out? ~*~ get pretty. ~*~

sick again...
2006-03-15, 12:12 a.m.

current mood: sick.

current song: the tussin by mc chris

way back college boy asked to a high school dance
couldn't wait but my date was in my friend's pants
didn't know what to do mc feelin blue
til my best friend said that the red would get me through
went to the jewel with my crew adults only box
in a second hand suit bow tie i'm a fox
in a car on the street in my mouth swisher sweet
down that shit at my crib in a one gulp feat
room starts to turn like cheese
my tummy starts to churn like grease
on my knees like a rug burn beast
like an intern tease with a yeast infection
all the while on the tile feel like i got the flu
think i'm gonna throw i think this night is through
ding dong date's arrived and her dress is ripped
she don't know i'm on a robotussin trip
in the back two girls going stag fat asses
i demand from the date her sunglasses
do a drop roll out the car like axel
i need an angel i need some fucking advil
i got a buzz bigger than a beehive
cough up my cookies let loose what's on the inside

the tussin the tussin
put it down like it was nothing
robocop couldn't stop me from puking and flushing
no balls to be busting no fighting no cussing
just love for a drug called robotussin

way back college boy live on eleventh floor
head out my window wondering what i'm living for
knock on my door what's in store it's my buddy bux
with the rabbit ear pockets saying he is out of luck
need a forty for party thrown by laura kang at rubin
all he's got is snot and a box full of ludens
tell him about the tussin we're hayden ho hustlin'
interupting discussions about reagonomic reprocussions
fuck 'em we're fuckin chuga-luggin
soon my stomach i'm hugging i'm tripping or something
my coat i button keep it down like a dungeon
you could call me the cough medicine curmudgeon
frankly, the feeling's fucking fantastic
i'm tripping like jesus in the desert when he fasted
like it's the night before we all get drafted
like we're rowing through some rapids with kevin bacon white water rafting
like you're on epcot center on acid
exactly

the tussin the tussin
put it down like it was nothing
robocop couldn't stop me from puking and flushing
no balls to be busting no fighting no cussing
just love for a drug called robotussin

i'm out of my mind on cold/flu remedies tonight. the tussin, suprisingly, is not one of them. musinex, however, is my friend. my dry, hacking cough has become semi-productive. i'm still dying, though.

can't decide if i'm calling off tomorrow or not. ok, so i'm not calling off, but it's a fun idea...

i'm out like spandex. nighty night, kids.

~*~ immediate yesterday. ~*~ divination. ~*~

~*~ entries from 2002 ~*~ entries from 2003 ~*~ entries from 2004 ~*~ entries from 2005 ~*~ entries from 2006 ~*~ entries from 2007 ~*~ entries from 2008 ~*~ entries from 2009 ~*~


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