When Maryland man turned thirty (er, 21) his estuaries were fucked. He tried throwing himself downstairs, and climbing out on the roof, but none of this could cure his angst. Eventually he emptied part of them into a pile of Sister Lemongrass's clothing at the end of the hall. In the morning I found Maryland man in his room, discussing what he remembered from the night before and showing off his bruises. I asked him if he remembered clearing his estuaries and he said, "oh no, you can't pull that one on me! I know I didn't do that." Whatever. He believed it, too... right up to the very minute that Sister Lemongrass caught up with him.