“Crap-quality pics of Bar Refaeli are still better than no pics of Bar Refaeli,” a voice in my head kept telling me as I uploaded these pics. Except it didn’t stop there. The voice also told me that I was an alien-human hybrid with telepathic powers and that I should try to nurse a feral cat. It didn’t end well. I probably shouldn’t have sold my Klonopin for meth money.