21 Questions ft. Elle Mills | MTV’s Greatest Party Story Ever

– I’m Elle Mills and this is how you don’t remember your 21st birthday. So I’m in L.A. and I just
had my 21st birthday, and I wake up in a total haze. The Airbnb is like totally
trashed, I’m covered in bruises, there’s (bleep) stained
underwear in the living room, my belt for some reason is destroyed and I feel like I spent
the past 24 hours crying. What the (bleep) happened? First, let’s rewind, so I’m from Canada. The drinking age there is like 18, 19, depending on the province. So I’m just used to drinking
but whenever I visit the States, and I do visit very often, I’m never allowed to drink. So I wanted to go all
out for my 21st birthday. I planned a humongous party, where I flew out my
entire family from Ottawa, 30 to 40 of my hometown friends,
five friends from London, five friends from Hong Kong,
and even a few from Florida. This is truly an
international event, people. I rented out a huge arcade
with virtual reality, an indoor amusement park
and of course, an open bar. But because I have this huge party planned I keep telling myself I
won’t pregame too hard. Some beers and shots of vodka later, I realize I’m getting a
little to turnt too early. But my friend Karen keeps
giving me more and more shots, and it’s my 21st birthday,
so hey, I can’t say no. So I do remember getting to the party. I was definitely drunk at that point. I remember walking in and being
like, whoa, this is a lot. My face was everywhere,
on all the screens. There was a bunch of red balloons, it was red themed because
my favorite color is red. My face was on the staircase ’cause I paid for that like an idiot. But I remember immediately
I just walked in like, oh this is sick, got
to go to the wash room. And I ran to the wash room to take a piss, and that’s my last memory of the night. The next thing I remember is waking up in my bedroom the next day. So here I am with (bleep)
underwear on my floor, bruises all over my body, a destroyed belt and a trashed Airbnb. We got to figure out
what the hell happened. So I run into the living room and I see my friend Camilla, and I’m like, Camilla, why
am I covered in bruises? She’s like, “Dude, don’t you remember? “Last night when people
came into the party “you greeted everyone with a huge kiss “and insisted on carrying
them around the arcade.” Hence the bruises, so
check that off my list. I looked at my phone and see a text from one of my friends, Shannon, and all it says is dot
dot dot, are you good? I know she’s going to have some answers. So I immediately call her and she tells me that I kept on daring people to dare me to pull down my pants, which
absolutely no one wanted. From pulling my pants down so much my belt just broke and was ruined. So now I’ve got the bruises
and the belt covered. Now we just got to figure out why it feels like I’ve been crying. I walk into the kitchen
to nurse my hangover and my best friend Tavian is already greeting me with a coffee. He hands me coffee and I’m
like, dude, I feel like (bleep). He goes, “Don’t you
remember crying last night?” I’m like no it was my birthday
why the (bleep) was I crying? Apparently I was so upset
that the birthday party that I don’t remember ended
that I burst into tears, probably because I had
spent so much money on it and won’t remember any of it. I was so upset that my birthday was coming to an end that I
insisted that everyone at the party come back to my Airbnb. So that makes sense,
that’s why I was crying, and that’s why my Airbnb was trashed. Great, now we just have to
solve the (bleep) underwear. Okay, so they definitely belong to a dude. And the only person that wasn’t a girl staying at the Airbnb was my brother Jay. So I march up to his bedroom
with dirty underwear in hand, and ask him what the (bleep) did you do? He looks at me just as puzzled. Apparently got even more drunk than I did and remembers nothing. Just then, all of my friends in the house join us in Jay’s bedroom and tell the tale of how after the arcade everyone came back to the Airbnb to
find Jay drunk and passed out on the couch in nothing but his underwear. Everyone was taking pictures
of him, I got sent all of them. So they went to flip my brother over and revealed that his underwear
was covered in (bleep). And then four of my buddies
each carried a limb of his body and carried him all the way upstairs. Okay, so that all checks out, the bruises, the belt, the crying, the huge mess and of course, the dirty underwear. Moral of the story,
don’t pregame too hard, (bleep) in a toilet, and honestly, just make the legal drinking age 18 because I can’t handle
this much trauma in my 20s. I’ve definitely heard
over the past few months a lot of people reach out to me like, yeah we kissed that night. I’ll be like, oh that’s the 15th person that’s told me that, wow!

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