It looks like the day has just been saved over at Rachel Cox’s party, and if you’ve been around long enough, the savior’s identity won’t come as a surprise: Somehow, some way, Justin came through with the xannies yet again like the god he is!

So fucking clutch! The dude’s a miracle worker!

When the night kicked off, the expectations for Rachel’s party were understandably pretty low, as Eric had shot out a group text warning everyone that his guy was out of town so he couldn’t get his hands on any weed or benzos or anything. But right around 9 o’clock, while everyone was sitting around Rachel’s living room drinking some of her dad’s Michelob Lights and Burnett’s vodka out of crinkled water bottles, the front door swung open and Justin, the living legend himself, stood there like a motherfucking angel in the glow of the streetlight, playfully shaking a big-ass Ziploc bag of xannies in front of his face. The night was instantly elevated from a laid-back get-together to a party for the fucking books.


Halle-fucking-lujah! Just when you think all hope is lost, Justin always finds a way to get everyone mad fucked-up.

It’s unclear how Justin was able to score xannies on such late notice, but after delivering the goods time and time again, it’s simply accepted at this point that the dude just works in mysterious ways. Whether he’s blessing Deanna Fisher’s post-homecoming party with three nearly-full cases of Miller Lite or he’s rolling up to Robbie Stenson’s Cinco de Mayo day-drink with enough bud to put everyone on their ass, Justin always figures out a way to make the good times happen. Maybe he’s swiping shit from one of his brothers, or maybe he’s somehow tight with the older community college kids in his neighborhood—honestly, no one has any fucking clue how the Holy One works his magic. But what is perfectly clear to everyone is that Justin has a gift for this shit, and it is nothing short of godly. One should never lose faith when the almighty J Man is around.


Praise be to the homie Justin!