Operation
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
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Current mood: Crunchy If I ever have to have any type of surgery I know what Doctor I’m going to go to. Dr. Dre. I’m talking about Death Row records Dr. Dre too. Not that fat ass Dr. Dre from Yo! MTV Raps. Dude will hook me up with some dopalicious medical care. The waiting lounge will be all pimped out and instead of one of those plastic hospital wristbands that i fucking hate I’ll be wearing an iced out gold chain with my name and information on it. Pimp! I’ll be in the Doctor’s office kickin it in my velour hospital gown while some fly honey takes my blood pressure. Eventually, Dr. Dre will bust in. Of course, he’ll be smoking a blunt. “What seems to be the problem Motherfucker!?” he’ll say. I’ll puff puff give and be all like, “I think I need a liver transplant, Dr.” to which Dr. Dre will respond, “Aight bitch. Lay the fuck back.” As I am being prepped for surgery, tons of people will walk into the room. I’m talking like lots of people. Like all the people from that Coolio video, “Fantastic Voyage.” Some of them will be nurses and the anaestheologist will bring the bomb ass anaesthesia. Everybody else will just be hos and hustlers. I’ll hear some dope beats for a minute or two then I’ll be out. When I wake up, Dr. Dre will be all like, “Operation was a success, motherfucker.” I’ll celebrate my new liver by drinking loads of Old English and St. Ides Malt Liquor drinks. Snoop Dogg will be there by that time and he’ll give me a ride home. The next day, I’ll go to the Cash Money Millionaires Detal facility to get my teeth cleaned and iced.
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