04-02-2005, 12:39 PM
you get some pixi sticks, but they are from the shifty-eyed mexican on the corner of martin luther king jr. street so they are actually filled with crack (i love crack!!!). walking home, you open up a pack but drop it and it spills on the potholes on your street and a random dog comes up and sniffs the crack and gets really high. twenty miles away, a gang of black people freeze and stop everything they are doing. slowly, each one of them closes their eyes and raises their nose. they smell crack! they rise into the air slowly as one and fly over to your street. unfortunately, a white policeman who just came back from his suspension for racial brutality sees a bunch of the gang flying around and buzzing so he gets his gun out and starts firing into the sky to try to hit one and mount it in his den. back to you. you realize that the pixi sticks are actually crack cocaine so you go to bed. while sleeping, one of the bullets that missed the gang succumbs to gravity and comes through your window and into your head. you dieeeee instantly
i wish i put my mind to something more useful
i wish i put my mind to something more useful