T3: Recuperation Day
Under the circumstances, this week so far, should blow serious chunks. It was unbearably hot and muggy outside, my planned “BYOP” (Bring Your Own Potato Party) patio party was a complete flop, and getting around on my injured foot was excruciatingly painful.
In fact, as of Friday morning, to say that stretched anterial tibial muscle was painful would be like saying that the sacking of Rome was a mere weinie-roast. But thanks to the prescribed Tylenol 3’s from the doctor I was given – it was not altogether unpleasant.
I haven’t tripped balls that hard since my third year in University! Hell, why worry about getting busted with illegal drugs when all you have to do is twist your foot while admiring trippy-ass bugs when walking and just pop a few T3’s down with a full glass of Crown Royale and then just sit back and ride the snake.
There were moments this week where I would just stare off into nothingness until the very air itself opened up around me into a kaleidoscope of colors that aren’t normally noticed by the human eye.
Actually, they made being crippled pretty fucking cool! They didn’t do anything for the pain in my foot exactly, but they sure made it so that I just didn’t give a shit. I wouldn’t have cared if a pack of rabid badgers had been attempting to gnaw off my foot – I was in medicated la-la land.
Now, I’ve taken a boatload of hallucinogens in my past to levitate a fully-grown sperm whale, but nothing could have ever prepared for these particular potent painkillers! It’s like they opened up a wormhole into my very consciousness through which was sucked just about every pink elephant, flying monkey and talking aardvark that my poor drug-addled imagination could conjure up before my eyes.
Basically, as I sit around my apartment recuperating, I feel like Jimmy Stewart in Alfred Hitchcock’s ‘Rear Window’; sitting alone helplessly in my apartment spying on my neighbors. Except that after my regular dosage of T3’s it’s like I’m instead spying on a whole creepy carnival of characters.
I love my Tylenol 3!
In fact, as of Friday morning, to say that stretched anterial tibial muscle was painful would be like saying that the sacking of Rome was a mere weinie-roast. But thanks to the prescribed Tylenol 3’s from the doctor I was given – it was not altogether unpleasant.
I haven’t tripped balls that hard since my third year in University! Hell, why worry about getting busted with illegal drugs when all you have to do is twist your foot while admiring trippy-ass bugs when walking and just pop a few T3’s down with a full glass of Crown Royale and then just sit back and ride the snake.
There were moments this week where I would just stare off into nothingness until the very air itself opened up around me into a kaleidoscope of colors that aren’t normally noticed by the human eye.
Actually, they made being crippled pretty fucking cool! They didn’t do anything for the pain in my foot exactly, but they sure made it so that I just didn’t give a shit. I wouldn’t have cared if a pack of rabid badgers had been attempting to gnaw off my foot – I was in medicated la-la land.
Now, I’ve taken a boatload of hallucinogens in my past to levitate a fully-grown sperm whale, but nothing could have ever prepared for these particular potent painkillers! It’s like they opened up a wormhole into my very consciousness through which was sucked just about every pink elephant, flying monkey and talking aardvark that my poor drug-addled imagination could conjure up before my eyes.
Basically, as I sit around my apartment recuperating, I feel like Jimmy Stewart in Alfred Hitchcock’s ‘Rear Window’; sitting alone helplessly in my apartment spying on my neighbors. Except that after my regular dosage of T3’s it’s like I’m instead spying on a whole creepy carnival of characters.
I love my Tylenol 3!
posted by crazytigerrabbitman at
5:54 PM
1 Comments:
When I first saw the title of "T3" I started to panic, thinking this was going to be a blog about the latest edition of the Terminator movies...much to my relief, it was just about your drugs. Whew!
By
STP, at 1:18 PM
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