Woke up. Drank three bottles of water and proceeded to drink half a gallon of orange juice. Popped some Tylenol, Mucinex, and Benadryl just because I like the name.
Naw, who am I kidding, I fucking love Benadryl. I don't even have allergies. Come to think of it, no one in my family does. But you know what I do have (and this applies to the rest of my family as well)?
Too much money and a deep love for deceptive commercials. Have you ever seen a Benadryl commercial? Shit's crazy bro. It starts off with those little helicopter things that twirl after you throw them in the air and it's accompanied by the sound of REAL helicopters, which is how I always imagined it anyway. And that's when you know. That field full of flowers you're standing in is a fucking war zone. Those blades of grass are lethal. That pollen in the air might as well be poisonous gas. Those pea plants are the miniguns of mother nature. As if that wasn't enough, they pull out the slow motion as the little helicopters collide with the dandelions. SOUND EFFECTS! Every hit is like a cannon ball making contact with the poop deck of a pirate ship. This commercial has got me more terrified than blackbeard's pubic hair.
OH, Benadryl you're such a tease. The commercial ends with "Win the War Against Allergies." Shieeeeeeeeeeet. I almost wish I had allergies. Oh well, didn't stop me from taking them.
God, I'm so satisfied. Benadryl is medicinal gold. With that being said, Tylenol, Mucinex, and Benadryl must be the damn holy trinity of over-the-counter drugs. I feel like I died and went to Heaven, where there's nothing but strips of bacon as far as the eye can see. And you know what? I'm the goddamn juggernaut of bacon eating, destined to consume bacon for the rest of eternity. Who cares if I'm morbidly obese, I'm dead anyway. Indulge your gluttony.
Speaking of gluttony, I've been deprived of it for today. I can't really eat anything without it painfully scraping down my throat. Feels like the food turned into goddamn razorblades as it makes its way down my esophagus. I'm starting to taste the pulp in pulp-free orange juice. The bullshit organic soy-milk my mom insists on buying tastes like sour-ass whole milk filled with milk curds. And drinking water's like trying to stand below a waterfall with my head back.
Yeah, I've got a drinking problem. And that's probably where this cold really started, I tried to cut down on drinking. Since swim season ended and my weak, asian body will inevitably morph back to having the physique of a prepubescent 12 year old, I didn't want a beer belly on top of it all.
Convenient, with St. Patty's being the perfect excuse. Green beer looks like vomit anyway. So, I decided to switch over to something that's naturally green, or purple.
Oh, here's to an epic pun: "I call my weed the Quran, cause burning this shit will get you stoned."
And that's what we did. After a few bowls of cereal, we couldn't feel our legs.
Dank. Ass. Shit. I mean, I couldn't even stand up straight. Being so high and so damn tall don't go well together.
I visited the Sears Tower in Chicago a few days back. They've got a new skydeck where it's just a thin layer of glass separating you from a 1500 foot drop. I'm not really scared of heights, so I stood on the edge of that shit like that bitch did on the cover of Titanic. Didn't feel a thing.
And that's when you know that you've had too much: when leaning over the skydeck of the Sears Tower doesn't scare you and tokin so much that you can't even stand up straight because you're dizzier than D!zZy D.
I woke up the next morning. Drank three bottles of water and proceeded to drink half a gallon of orange juice. Popped some Tylenol, Mucinex, and Benadryl just because I like the name.
Yeah, I've got a cold. Or maybe it's allergies?