A bright light pierces its way through my hungover eyes and brain, slicing and penetrating my migraine-ridden skull like a dildo strapped to a hacksaw in a hazing ritual gone horribly wrong. I lift my head and open my eyes to see lots of puffy smoke floating all around–at first I think I’m still in the hookah joint, but as my eyes return to full focus, I realize I’m watching pillars of fog dance above the waters below through the bay windows in front of my desk. I guess God’s taking a vape break