texts: Well, okay. Well, listen, I'm gonna get a cigarette, okay? </s> <s> Yeah, grass, right? The illusion that it will make a white woman more like Billie Holiday. </s> <s> Well, have you ever made love high?
labels: Me, no. You... I-I-you know, if I have grass or alcohol or anything I get unbearably wonderful. I get too, too wonderful for words. You know, I don't-I don't know why you have to, uh, get high every time we make love.