Saturday, June 30, 2012


 I kind of feel like a Southern rapper right now. A very sick Southern rapper, but nonetheless.

In an attempt to rid myself of almost three weeks of bronchitis, I bought an econo-bottle of "raspberry" cough syrup at the pharmacy (I say "raspberry", because it tastes more like death and garbage than fruit). I bought it over-the-counter, a wonderful benefit of Canada's loosey-goosey stance on prescription drug abuse (Happy Canada Day, everyone!), and the pharmacist made me sign a waiver to bring it home.
Every night since, I have been wrapping myself in the ultimate warmth and security of codeine; a feeling that can only be liked to the ever-lasting comfort of knowing that Cam'Ron prefers white women.

~sarah p.

p.s. Codeine abuse is no joke. RIP DJ Screw.
p.p.s. Truth time: cough syrup does make rap sound pretty good, in case anyone was wondering. It also makes me feel like my limbs weigh a million pounds, and gives me the most vivid dreams I've ever had.

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