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This year, 420 was a bit different. First off, it was a Monday and who the hell gets high on a Monday? Me, that's who.
OK, so I didn't really get high. More like, I tried to get high for the first time. It didn't really work though. The thing is that me and some friends went over to GayBff's house after work with a mission. Operation: Get high as hell. We even got lots of pizza! Me, my girl A (yes, the one I made out with) and GayBff waited for the others to get there with "the good shit", and while waiting I engaged in the nerdiest conversation known to man: BLOGGING.
Ladies and gents, I am not an undercover nerd anymore.
For some reason, GayBff asked me "DG, what's blogging?" and I geeked out. I started telling him all about blogging and how much I love it and how many "friends" I have (nothing will take away your street cred as fast as owning up to having Internet friends) and how people leave comments on the most random shit you write, etc. I think my speech was passionate enough to make him want to blog. After that geek session, the 3 of us jammed out to one of my favorite songs ever. By jammed out, I really mean we yelled and screamed pretending to be Whitney, but ended up sounding like dying cats. Of course, right when we were "jamming", GayBff's uncle gets home and heard us. This wouldn't really bother me in other circumstances but it does because I have the biggest crush on him. He's a hot older man. By older man I mean he was able to vote before I was born.
When the rest of the people came, blunts were immediately rolled and lit and they all proceeded to get high. I was just looking at this point, trying to take in the scene but not really participating. Until one of my friends offered and I said sure and I took 2 hits. I don't think I did it right though because I didn't really feel anything except I was very tired and hungry.
After that, everyone there proceeded to speak with a UK accent. It was very, very funny but I was so mad because I can't do it and feel so left out! But really, like my girl K said "She can't even get the American accent right and you're gonna make her do a UK accent?"
When I got home, I went straight to my room and Febrezed (did I ever tell you guys about my undying love for all things Febreze?) the crap out of my clothes and took a shower immediately. That didn't stop my mom from giving me a random speech the next morning about drinking and driving (random, I know) because she "smelled something weird last night when you got home".
Clearly, I was raised by a bloodhound.