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Opinion: I’m Anti-Vaping Because No One Should Have to Bury Their Own Beer Pong Partner

It’s every beer pong player’s worst nightmare. Worse than getting shut out. Worse than playing with Milwaukee’s Best. Even worse… than losing to a chick. We must stop vaping NOW because no bro should live long enough to bury his own beer pong partner.

Yesterday, I laid to rest the body of Bart “the Fart” Dansby after his vape pen straight up torched his lungs. Or gave him cancer. I dunno, I was in the other room asking a girl about her major. If you’re drinking a 40 right now, pour some out. And if you’re not drinking a 40, go get one, bitch. Nut check!

Bart loved 40s. In fact, the first responders said it didn’t help matters that when he tried to call 911 he actually had two of them duct taped to his hands. But Bart didn’t die from drinking 40s. That’s not even possible.

He also didn’t die from weed, stepped-on cocaine, strippers, Taco Bell, or WWE Network, which are just a few of the other things he loved. My bro got straight up no-scoped by vaping and this epidemic ends now.

Like those guys we don’t let into our frat say, “Never again.”

Some of our friends started using vapes a while back. You know, cuz it’s cool. Like a cigarette from the future. Not too long after, Bart made the switch to vaping. Well, “switch” isn’t really the right word. He still smoked regular cigarettes, too. He also had one of those bad ass gas mask bongs. Bart was a sick dude and his death came as a complete shock.

After all, he wasn’t just my beer pong partner. He was my friend, my roommate, and part of my crew. We got a place together off-campus and we rack the BP tables every night. It’s just like Animal House and no dean is gonna shut us down no matter how many passed out underage girls we drop off in shopping carts at their rich parents house! But unlike Animal House, our Bluto died.

Apparently, people have been talking about the potential dangers of vaping for a while now. It was in all the papers but me and my boys didn’t know! We have a saying here at the house: If it isn’t in Maxim magazine, it’s fake news.

Vaping now joins the list of other fucked up shit that I’m “anti” after it cost me the life of a beloved beer pong partner: Four Loko, axe-throwing bars, and air drumming on the steering wheel so hard to Godsmack that you drive directly into an eighteen-wheeler.

We miss you, Bart. The Fight Club poster in the living room hangs at half-mast in your honor.