If you had told 19-year-old me that 49-year-old me would be a Subaru driving teetotaler who no longer eats red meat, goes to the gym four times a week, puts on a suit and tie Monday through Friday, rarely dates, never has sex, and whose two closest friends are cats, 19-year-old me would have asked for a hit of whatever it was you were smoking. I have successfully drained all the fun out of life. Go me.
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