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Tuesday, October 2, 2018

An Ode To Bowel Prep a la Santeria

I don't want no diarrhea
I don't want to poop at all
Twenty-four feet of intestines and I, emptied them all
If I could freeze this crap fest, and my bowels that just won't quit
Well I'd pop a cork in my gut and I'd go no more.

I don't really want to go, no baby, mmmm. . .
And literally all day I'm not fine
Loperamide I need, Oh. . .

My hole will have to withstand this attack, won't leave my heinie all alone.
Intestines gonna die large and small.
I feel the urge, feel the burn, feel the urge and I know I can't stand up.
Whoa, no, huh uh.
Well I swear and cry.

What I really wanna know, please tell me.
Am I really gonna die I know I will, Lytely I'll not Go.
My hole will have to . . .

Oh. . .
But I really want to die, just sayin'
That I really wanna die and it's now time, I won't make it, oh no it's coming out.

The Nulytely will destroy as you run to the bathroom, barricade inside
Death is coming for your insides
And if you can choke it down the end result will be so clear.
Believe me when I say that you need something for that ripped ass.

And I really wanna cry, like crazy
Oh, the inhumanity is mine to face, alone, and I'll take it.
My pride will have to wait, yeah, yeah, yeah.

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