Slept in a ridiculous bunk bed, learned how to say “what’s up?” in Bosnian, got drunk in Nassau and jumped off the side of Señor Frogs into the ocean, discussed my fraudulent heterosexuality (Stacy and I are, apparently, going to have three kids) and the legalities of Bahamian vending with Bahama Mama, fist fought a wall, explored Grand Bahamas Island in a pink Jeep like queer Barbie, avoided our cruise “friends,” got sunburnt and had my nose fall off like a Jackson. It’s been real, Bahamas.