Once, when I in 6th grade and still innocent, I tried a piece of a pot brownie that a friend had stolen from her big brother. Upon swallowing, I became convinced I was high and sat down on the floor, steadying myself with my hands because “the world was spinning out of control.”

Yes, I was lame, but I was 12 and lived in suburbia. I was allowed.

But this guy…well…he really doesn’t have any excuse. Except maybe that he’s a douchebag.