Archive for medicine

Its The End Of The World

Posted in Disaster with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on March 19, 2011 by Suge White

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In case you haven’t noticed, 2012 is bearing down on us like an out of control station wagon with a coked-up James Brown behind the wheel.  We are all watching as massive earthquakes, tsunamis, and hurricanes rock our tranquility.  All the while, Charlie Sheen is running around like some half assed anti-christ trying to corrupt our youthful exuberance.  Seriously people, we need to put down the crack pipes and pick up the shovels. We should be building bomb shelters… or space ships… or some really cool kind of oven that runs on the decaying remnants of our hopes and dreams.  The bottom line is that we should be preparing for our Armageddon.  And even if we can’t save our selves, we should at least be trying to live it up while we are still here.  With that being said, go out and try some new things.  I’ve never helped an old lady cross a street with her groceries, so guess what is first on my list of things to do? If you guessed ‘helping an old lady cross the street’, you are an idiot for thinking I’m going to waste my final days helping out those that have lived much more life than I will ever see.  Sorry, grandma but I’m going to steal your groceries and pawn them off to buy some heroin.  I’ve never done heroin before, nor have I ever wanted to, but hell, the world is going to end and I’m interested to see what all the hype is about.  I’ll have a needle in my arm, a crack pipe in my mouth (which I picked up after accepting my impending doom), and a dirty chick on the end of my dick.  No more caring and no more thoughts.  All that will be left is black tar and hideous lower back tattoos.  Get like me and accept the inevitable.

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That Is Too Much To Ask

Posted in Stop with tags , , , , , , , on February 12, 2011 by Suge White

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I hate my friends. You know the type. They are the ones that want you to help them move or need a jump when their car dies. I know I should be more willing to help but can’t you see I have more important things to do? Your ill-timed phone call just interrupted my TV watching or an attempt to string myself up in a closet like David Carridine during an act of sexual asphyxiation, with the help of a local hooker named Sasha. Don’t you know these hookers charge by the hour? My friends should know by now that I will party with them, help them in a fight, or, in a pinch, help them apply sun screen to their back in a less than heterosexual manner (just to make them feel uncomfortable). However, anything more than that is asking alot. You want me to go to your wedding? Will there be an open bar? You want me to babysit your kids for a few hours? Can I give them some codeine and a shot of whiskey so they’ll pass out and shut the fuck up? You want me to give you a ride to the store in exchange for gas money? Do I look like a fucking taxi driver to you? So for future reference, unless you have a dead body rolled up in that rug, stop being lazy and carry it your damn self.