Hello everybody, Years ago, a girl was introduced to smoking by her boyfriend. She enjoyed the occasional high, in a room where it was being passed around. She never had her own "stuff" and wasn't too interested in acquiring it. She married the boyfriend, who began to metamorphose into Ozzie- of "Ozzie and Harriet" or Beaver Cleaver's dad, or Father, of "Father Knows Best" and expected her to turn into the perfect '50's housewife. Well, she was an '80s girl, and that didn't sit too well. Ozzie started working for the government, and his transformation to "square" was complete. He cut his hair, stopped smoking, refused to hang out with smokers. The girl realized how bad it was when Ozzie got pissed when she gave him some hemp oil lip balm. He accused her of trying to get him fired because the lip balm could cause him to fail a drug test!!! It's years later now, and that girl is divorcing Ozzie. She couldn't take the stifling oppression any longer. It wasn't just the smoke- it was everything. 24 years is a looooong time to not be heard, to be patronized and forced into a box of someone else's choosing. So part of her freedom is to take responsibility for her own "wicked" pleasures- she just bought her first glass pipe and 1/8 of "chronic" purple irkle or whatever. She's not even sure what a lot of that means, lol. But she is sure of one thing. Her choices are her own and she is through with the fake "perfect" life she was living for the last quarter freakin' century! So- in yo' face Ozzie! JK. I wish Oz well. Peace, all. Looking forward to being part of this community.