The hell of it is, my grades went downhill a whole year before I even considered using mj. Towards the end of my freshman year I just ceased to have any devotion to or value for the public education system and its encysted fiefdoms I was forced to attend. And this was after being labeled, for fifteen years of my life, as "gifted" (of course, once they realized that I wasn't going to be a morally righteous social butterfly/gopher for the local community that came to a close). People look down on me for it, and constantly try to find a quick, digestible scapegoat for my "problem" (mj), but I really don't see what harm is being done. Formal academia is dandy if that's your thing, but my path is a different one in life.
Oh my cousins.... those a-holes liked to pick on me when i was about 6. One day they were smoking a joint and put a hat on my head back words and blew smoke at me. I dont really remeber this but they swear its true. But when i hit 7th grade i hung out with my neighbor who was in 9th and he smoked and got me into smoking. Now i blaze every day.