Yeah. Oh, yeah. (grunting) Ooh! Oh, my God. (Abbi)
Yeah? You just pulled a bag
of pot out of your vagina. I know. Why– why would
you do that? I do it all the time. Honestly, it’s the
safest way to travel. Apparently, I have been
smoking this tainted weed for I don’t even
know how long. I didn’t mean that. It’s just
disturbing to me. I don’t– I don’t know
what to tell you. It’s in a bag. And, you know, the “vaya-nya”
is nature’s pocket. It’s– it’s natural,
and it’s responsible. I shouldn’t even be
bumming off of you. (Ilana)
Oh, who cares?
No, I’m an adult. I should be buying
my own pot. Wow! Never thought this day
would come, you know? I would be honored and
pleasured to facilitate this. No, no, no. None of your dudes. I wanna get my
own pot, okay? I’m not gonna be like holding my
mommy’s hand while I buy drugs. I can do this.
You know what
I’m gonna do? I’m gonna be a grown-ass woman
and do my taxes for once, without my
mommy and daddy. Get it, bitch.
I’m gonna call some
old college buds, a buncha weed-heads. Hit ’em up! I’m gonna get
those taxes did. I’ll hop on the Q18, catch the
N and then transfer to the R, and get home in a tight 95
’cause the G ain’t runnin’. Whoa! Um, but it was because
someone jumped on the tracks to kill themselves,
it was really sad. Love ya, bitch!