The Stoner Series: A Love Letter to Legal Marijuana

Dear Legal Marijuana,

FINALLY YOU HAVE ARRIVED!! Here we were thinking that Election Day is pointless… until you joined our stoner circle. I mean, maybe you haven't exactly arrived here with us, but your basic existence anywhere outside of Amsterdam gives us high off our asses hopes. We're almost positive that the lack of anything to do in Colorado and Washington will leave a ton of bored ass mountain ski bums/clowns in permanent search of getting stoned so we imagine that you'll be able to sell enough bud to afford bicoastal real estate in no time.

We'd ask what took you so fucking long but since you're one of us we're sure you were just finishing up a quick pre-blaze blaze sesh. At least, unlike your nicegirl cousin Medical Marijuana, we don't have to #129 make shit up to get a doctor's note to hang out with you like we're getting out of high school gym. The medical marijuana card is like the fucking 60-year-old prom chaperone of prescriptions.

Legal Marijuana, when you finally do get here (which will feel like five times as long since that's one of your side effects), tell us this: Where will you be on sale? Will people camp out for you like you're an iPhone or Lord of the Rings sequel? Will edibles be sold at bakeries? What if my drug dealer and I aren't as close anymore? Wanna come to the movies with us? No matter what, we're sure that wherever you go the snack industry will fucking explode.

Finally, tell us Mar, if we start our weed company now, what are our chances of becoming the world's first marijuana tycoons?

High regards,

Stoner Betches



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