“I was 21 years old, never did drugs in my life. I’d confiscated a bag of weed from my bride at our wedding reception and was freaking out about it. I didn’t want to throw it away, as it was potentially worth hundreds of dollars … I didn’t know how much it cost. At the reception, she was telling people she didn’t know why she married me as she drank two bottles of wine and smoked a joint. About two miles down the road, en route to the honeymoon she asked me to pull over. She vomited gracefully through the open door and gave me the go-ahead to resume driving. The weed and wine then worked their combined magic. I got another mile down the road and she gave a much more urgent signal and I pulled over just in time for her to fall out of the car and vomit and shit all over the place. She spent about 30 minutes urgently voiding everything from her system with her eyes rolling back and getting vomit and mud on the veil she was still wearing. It was lightly raining and I was in a hurry to get to the beach, so I tried to lift her back into the car only for her to unleash the most horrific scream. You’d think I’d stabbed her, and apparently the nearest neighbor thought the same. Their outside light turned on in the distance and I set the lady back down in the grass.