Purple Tears In Heaven
In my recent effort to kick the dreaded Java Devil, I have unleashed an even uglier beast:
KOOLAID!
This sweet, sweet elixir of fruity goodness is probably more hazardous and health (not to mention addictive) than my usual cup of morning coffee.
By noon, I am literally on my knees worshipping this purple sugar bitch with my purple-stained tongue lolling out like I was an exhausted Chinese Chow-Chow laying in wait for my Kool-Aid master to come crashing through the cubicle wall at any moment.
It leaves me literally vibrating in my seat like a vibrator on a china plate.
Fuck, who needs drugs when you have enough ‘Radical Berry Explosion’ crystals coursing through your veins to make even David Crosby attempt to saw off his arms? All I need now is a droning Velvet Underground soundtrack playing in the background and some blonde quaffed dandy handling me a plastic telephone in order to talk to God.
This Kool-Aid is turning me into a junkie; and I may, or may not, be developing diabetes! Even after the first sip, I am instantly carried away to a world of throw pillows and innocence, and banging porno stars on public countertops.
Give it another few weeks my whole work performance will probably lapse and I’ll devolve into some lost, editing scene from the movie ‘Rush’. I’ll take to begging for spare change outside the bathrooms so I can afford my next Kool-Aid fix in order to make it back to my desk and pass out in a glazed post coital junkie’s deliria.
I’ll be like the corporate pussy’s equivalent of Duane Allman!
KOOLAID!
This sweet, sweet elixir of fruity goodness is probably more hazardous and health (not to mention addictive) than my usual cup of morning coffee.
By noon, I am literally on my knees worshipping this purple sugar bitch with my purple-stained tongue lolling out like I was an exhausted Chinese Chow-Chow laying in wait for my Kool-Aid master to come crashing through the cubicle wall at any moment.
It leaves me literally vibrating in my seat like a vibrator on a china plate.
Fuck, who needs drugs when you have enough ‘Radical Berry Explosion’ crystals coursing through your veins to make even David Crosby attempt to saw off his arms? All I need now is a droning Velvet Underground soundtrack playing in the background and some blonde quaffed dandy handling me a plastic telephone in order to talk to God.
This Kool-Aid is turning me into a junkie; and I may, or may not, be developing diabetes! Even after the first sip, I am instantly carried away to a world of throw pillows and innocence, and banging porno stars on public countertops.
Give it another few weeks my whole work performance will probably lapse and I’ll devolve into some lost, editing scene from the movie ‘Rush’. I’ll take to begging for spare change outside the bathrooms so I can afford my next Kool-Aid fix in order to make it back to my desk and pass out in a glazed post coital junkie’s deliria.
I’ll be like the corporate pussy’s equivalent of Duane Allman!
posted by crazytigerrabbitman at
8:05 PM
1 Comments:
My new Loblaws flyer just arrived and what do I see? Kool-Aid popsicles! Great for those muggy southern Ontario summer afternoons!
By
Wandering Coyote, at 1:39 PM
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