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Nose bleeds and strawberry jam have never been more beautiful.

Once, myself, Levi, Word, Michelle and Bradley were tripping in my bedroom while listening to Zeplin. My mother, expecting Debauchery, or at very least, marajuana smoking, and walked up the 22 stairs and started a casual conversation with us.

Bradley played Physical Graffiti.
Composure was kept.

Conclusion: I have no clue how we contained ourselves...