It’s weird, I think I’d remember smoking crack. Especially since I don’t even know HOW to smoke crack.
I guess maybe I Googled it?
Because it seems at some point I agreed to go see my family for Easter, and now that the time is upon me, crack seems to be the only rational explanation.
You know the drill, guys: Family = wine = Jesus. May your battle wounds be minor, your chosen numbing agents effective.
And may you also have candy.