I wish a car would hit me while I’m crossing the street so I could pay off student loans.
Get rich or die tryin’.
And if I didn’t die on impact, I’d want a cow’s udder worth of tequila with a side of morphine to help me recover in the hospital.
If I did die… I’d want for my friends and family to serve tequila and morphine at my funeral because someone oughtta have that concoction.
Pour some on my grave so I’m not left out. I bet I’d claw out of my hole in the ground for one final sip before I met the horned landlord in the fires below.
I’m gonna bomb an exam in about six hours. Do some lab work. Hang out with B.Sox. Explain to the Johns Hopkins biomedical engineer that, no, I don’t want to join his orgy this Saturday (this is the second one he’s invited me to). Orgies seem to be a common theme in my life at present.
Must mean I’m gonna get fucked six ways from Sunday soon.