Drugs are bad, kids. Learn from my mistakes. It was way back in college, when I was a young and impressionable youth. One fall semester, just before finals, I was stressed out from studying for so many hours every day. My roommate suggested I should relax for a little while and do some "mariwana" with him. I had never tried it before, and if I had known then what would happen, I never would have touched it. I took a little convincing, but eventually I agreed to try it. We both popped two mariwanas that night. A week later I woke up in Juarez, Mexico with a missing kidney, a tattoo on my c*ck, and a note stapled to my forearm that said "sorry amigo. Business is business"