Smoke Crack... On Your Back...

Yes, indeed. I need weed.

Weed is what you need?

Yes, Nick, yes.  Oh yes, indeed.

Pot is not what I've got.
Beer is what's here.

I have a bottle of Cherry Coke,
But that's not something I can toke.

Pop from a shop is not something you can drop.
You need 'cid or stronger to flip your lid.

Downstairs there's always some spare catnip,
But I'm not too sure I'd trust that trip.

You could mix oregano and sage,
But that's somewhat pathetic at your age.

I could hold my breath, ‘til spots I see,
But that's likely not too good for me.

You might end up dead,
If you don't get oxygen to your head.
I once snorted a Pixie Stick.
That seemed to do the trick.

I would spike my Coke with Clorox Bleach,
But Mom keeps it safely out of reach.

That would burn your throat and make scream,
And most likely kill you, so it would seem.

There's something fuzzy on this bread.
If I smoke it, would it mess with my head?

It might fuck you up,
But you may end up vomiting cup after cup.

There's grass in my room, but it's made from plastic,
So if I lit that up, it'd make me go spastic.

Perhaps you should bang your head on the wall.
That'd make your head spin, wouldn't it, Paul?
Or smoke a cig quick.
Then your head'd spin,
And that'd do the trick.

A cigarette might do me well,
I'll smoke one and return,
But 'til I do, farewell!

I will join you, if not in body, then in mind.
At least it will provide a break from this rhyme.

Curses, I am really tired,
Without enough caffeine to keep me wired.
So, to my couch I will now head,
And hopefully slumber like the dead.
Tomorrow I will wake again,
And enjoy a day of hedonistic sin!

Sex with ex?

Well, sex with any girl, hopefully,
With  lots of blowjobs for little old me.

I need lovin',
But I'll just deal with nuthin'.
Off to bed, sleep like the dead,
And let no more drug thoughts enter your head.

I go away now, to sleep for a time,
And clear my head of this catchy rhyme.
Some sleep might actually do the trick,
And on that note, I'll see ya later, Nick.