Pot and diabetes.

Because they probably just quit.

It comes and goes. When you get older, you burn out faster, & usually have more disposable income so you tend to buy quantities.

When you start burning out, wake up and go "fuck this shit, I'm quitting for awhile," your friends end up with your bud.

 

Ha, I just smoked. On a related note, I love Jack Herer. He is the awesome-iest.

I hold a 3.5 at St. John's currently, btw. Smoked probably 345-350 days of my life (no clue really, I'd say every day, but I know there are days I don't, just of a low frequency, so I estimated) for the past 2 1/2-3 years, quite heavily at times. Had a 3.9 average over my last 2 semesters too.

I'm sure most of you will agree, it's a personal choice of primarily personal effect, there have been few studies objective enough to really study effects, since the compounding variables are kind of ridiculous in the United States. If you took the entire body of evidence weighing the pros and cons of marijuana, you'ld find the results quite mixed, even though the pro-resulting research is largely suppressed, at least here in America.

 

@blinky

They hare having som advanced research in the neatherlands. Suprised?

They are trying to get the painkilling effect of merijuana in little pills, but the best way is still to smoke it.

 

Not really surprised at all, but in America, those studies will never be publicized unless they happen to support the point of view that pot has no medicinal properties.

 

The best part is that there is still like two people in America that can smoke Cannabis legal. Each month they get a package from the U.S goverment containing 300 joints. They can stand outside the white house and smoke 'em, and none can touch them.

 

I think that pill has already been created. It's called Marinol.

 

I see you watch Bullsh*t too, that was a funny show. Unfortunately, the actual situation is somewhat different. I wrote a poem about it actually:

Puff, puff, prohibition,
Toke, toke, don’t smoke,
Little bit a hypocrite
From a nigga on coke,

They say don’t smoke,
Say we’re all crooks,
While the President’s got
More lines than books.

That fucker snorts yay,
And he’s the God damn Chief,
Yet the cops get pissed
When I smoke that reef,

Well fuck all a’ that,
I ain’t got the time,
To justify myself
Or justify my rhymes,

Or justify my right
To sit and smoke some blunts
To a fascist regime
Or their pork-filled grunts.

I say fuck the Man,
Till he change his ways,
An’ let us fine good people,
‘joy our fine good haze.

How you trust the Man,
Got his shit on point,
When all he can seem to do,
Is to dis-a-ppoint?

Aids, crack, an’ Katrina,
They’re battin’ a G,
They steal yo’ cash
To steal trees from me,

And you think they can’t fix
Soc’ Se-cur-i-ty
They just need more excuses
To rob from the free.

That’s da gov’ment man,
Get used to that shit;
Or get loud and get proud,
And change it a bit,

Twenty damn years old,
If I’ve learned one thing,
It’s that ya know the bitch,
Before you buy that ring,

And you don’t judge a book
By the words on the front,
And you remember a Bush,
Is the same as a cunt.

They say reefer madness,
How you buy that crap?
More distortion in that
Than in Japanese rap.

So let me lay down the truth,
When in come to the pot,
So you can know what it is,
And you can know what it’s not.

Just look at the web,
At About.com,
The way they talk,
Might as well be a bomb,

They act like we think
We smoke Robitussin,
Like you take two hits
And you cure a concussion,

Well, no, we aint stupid,
This aint fucking magic,
That anyone thinks that
Is itself fucking tragic.

Fuck with the proof,
Tamper with studies,
The D-E-to-the-A,
The feds and they buddies,

They lyin’ like rugs,
Then denyin’ like thugs,
They like addicts yo,
They minds bent by the drugs

Somehow a doc’s
Grant money get spent,
How the fucker gon’ work,
No emol-u-ment,

So the doc, he can’t learn,
He can’t find out the truths,
So y’all mis-edu-cated,
When y’all go to the booths,

Man says smoking gives you
Just cons but no gain,
Well I heard a bit different
From over in Spain,

Two, double-oh four,
August I think,
A report saying pot,
Makes brain tumors shrink,

It aint different here,
It aint like it changed,
Symptoms aint money,
They just don’t get exchanged.

And so I call to the people,
To the fair and the free,
To those lovers of love,
I sound a decree.

The wool lays thick,
Over our eyes,
So we can’t see
As they criminalize,

Everything we hold dear,
This aint just about weed,
It’s about you, ya’ li-brary
And the books that you read,

Or that chat on the phone,
Wi-tcha girl or ya boy,
And the NSA checking
On the words you employ,

It’s about being free
From a sneaking oppression,
From retrograde motion
To tyrannic repression,

So my bad if I lose you,
In all the symbolics,
And my bad if my rhyme,
Gets long-winded and prolix,

But it’s a point on the final,
Too important to lose,
Kinda like freedom:
Our mind’s right to choose.