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The Italian: I drank two and a half four lokos at my dormitory last year. I ended up lighting an American flag on fire and tying it around my back while yelling insults at passing people on the street. Someone put it out (my shirt still has burn marks) and I finished the third in my friends room while going insane to some dubby ass dubstep. Then, I announced that a monkey had just pissed on my mind-brain and left the room. I then walked up to a fire alarm in the dorm and pulled it, for no reason that I can remember. I sprinted out of the building falling on the way and crossed the street, watching my dorm-mates pour out of the building. After we were led back in, I sprinted past the security guard upstairs and wrote a drunken confession letter, turned it in, and ended up in jail 2 days later. Most of this has been told to me, I barely remember it. Now they tell my story to all incoming freshmen every year! And somehow through all of this, I ended up being referred to as "The Italian." I'm a pale guy of Irish and English descent. I'LL MISS YOU FOUR LOKO!!!! You won't be the same without all your stimulating chemicals.
Loko: 105
Not Loko: 39

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