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Of course you have heard this one before. As a good friend of mine once said, "Smoking is really depressing. That's why we smoke with friends, so at least we're depressed together." Smoking is kind of depressing. Blowing smoke out the window of your dorm room will make you feel like grade-A druggie. It's okay. It will get better. You will be stoned soon.

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It's like Starbucks for stoners. But instead of "I'll have Triple Grande Skinny Iced Carmel Macchiato with Soy Milk please," it's more like "Yo man, lemme have a G of that BubbleGum Kush." If you are secretly a white girl from an affluent suburb in New Jersey, just respond to everything they say with "yeah, dude" or "cool man". They will think you are one of them and will never suspect that you actually saw One Direction with your mom last summer. See, dealers are mostly guys who like to think that they're ghetto. It doesn't matter if he went to a prep school, if he caddies at a country club, or if his dad is a professor at Yale. If he sells drugs he's gonna think he's fucking Tupac Shakur. So, learn the dialect. It's not that hard. Go on urbandictionary.com and educate yourself.

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No more apple bongs, carved balsa wood bowls from shop or shitty joints out of Bible paper for you. Now you have your hands around a glass piece, maybe in the shape of an animal: like a dragon, an elephant or your recently deceased pet. Piece brings power. You have freedom to smoke alone without having to share a dime of precious green. Make sure to christen your new piece. Hold a little ceremony. Baptize it in cold water - preferably a river. Wave your hands above it mystically and sing a Gregorian chant to exorcise any evil spirits, pack it generously, sprinkle some keef on top and blaze up.

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It really doesn't matter what day of the week. This is one of the factors that distinguishes stoners from your average College Joe.  For College Joe, smoking is reserved for the weekends, along with other recreational activities: i.e. drinking, dancing*, hooking up. Drinking makes sense to reserve for the weekends. It's exhausting, and after too much shot gunning you might end up throwing up into an empty PBR box at the end of the night. Or you'll spend the next morning hugging a toilet with your friend's cat as your sole companion. Maybe you'll end up tangled in sheets on a floor emptier than your heart. But weed will never do that to you. It's kinder to your liver... and your heart. Weed is good for every day of the week. You've got Superblunt Sundays, Mary-Jane Mondays, Turnt Tuesdays, Wine and Weed Wednesdays**, Toasted Thursdays, Fried Fridays, and your classic Stoned Saturdays. As long as you get homework done and wake up in time for that 9am class, it shouldn't interfere with school, lolz.

* dry humping on the dancefloor 

**wine optional

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If you've been high in front of your parents, depending on their religious values and political party, it can be almost as terrifying as staring a cop in the face with a bong in your hand. In the words of Douglas Adams, Don't Panic. You have much to learn, young padawan. Make sure you are prepared: eye drops, shower, breath mints, perfume/man-perfume, and an essence of sober. If you don't have time to do all this, just pray to Bob Marley that your parents don't remember what the 70?s smelled like. If you find yourself at a loss for words, just don't say anything. If you start telling them about your telepathic communications with a fox in the woods today, your parents very well might think you're stoned.

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If you are a stoner, you are going to feel inclined to have weed on you for every occasion. Drinking this weekend? Take a toke. Bonobo Concert? Blaze it. Going to A&P? Get ripped. Going out on a nice dinner with your grandparents? Time to get hazy. I mean getting high makes everything better! Sleep, sex, music, class, food, laundry, running into your old high school teacher at Target, asking said teacher how he and his new wife are doing, finding out that the she left him six months ago, offering him condolences with an awkward touch on the shoulder, retracting your arm after he nods uncomfortably, mumbling something about how your uncle met someone great on match.com, and cringing as you speed-walk away to home goods section as quickly as your smoker lungs will allow.

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What is weed porn? Well, Bio majors, weed is a predominantly dioecious plant, so technically Mr. and Mrs. Cannabis get down in that vascular plant sort of way. Mr. C releases his load of pollen from his ample anther which floods into the Mrs.' throbbing pistol in the quest to feritilze her engorged ovule. As much Natural Geographic specials on plant reproduction narrated by E.L. James arouse me.... I'm talking about those photos on tumblr. The ones of massive purply-orange nuggets so sticky with THC crystals they could pass for a dank Sour Patch Kid. Weed porn doesn't have to be pictures of weed. It could be a picture of a girl in nothing but her underwear and a tank top that says "Blaze It 420? holding a loaded spoon of cannabutter that trails magically down into a discreetly unlabeled jar. Stoner chicks could easily push Jennifer Lawrence off her tumblr throne, but they smoke a lot so they're kind of lazy.

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Not all stoners were nature freaks before they started smoking. Some were dragged into the woods as cub scouts or would occasionally take Chipper out to the river to throw some balls, but never were they wilderness masters. Weed brings you outside, mostly because it's illegal most places and potent enough to piss off your neighbors with small children. Weed will have you walking into the deep part of the forest to avoid any hikers, Park Rangers, or ex-high school teachers that you might encounter. If you see bear poop and it's still wet, you're good to smoke. Though it may not compel you to walk barefoot and speak in parables for months on end like a quarter of mushrooms can, weed can be a powerful hippie drug. Warning: you may find yourself staring at the branches of the trees, playing in the mud, hugging trees, staring at the sky, petting moss, talking to animals, meditating on rocks, and contemplating the big questions in the universe.

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You know you are a stoner when you are your own unique stoner. You don't need to see every episode of Breaking Bad, own a pair of Adventure Time pajamas, have a secret-not-so-secret crush on Seth Rogen, think Dazed and Confused is funny, or encounter a coked up Neil Patrick Harris on zany trips to White Castle at 2am. Yes, you can be your own stoner. You can create your own culture. You don't need Netflix, tumblr, or cartoons. You take the best of what you like and create your own style. A stoner is really just someone who smokes a lot. Everything else is really up to you.

 

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Don't be a pussy.