marijuana

A drug that is illegal for good reason-- it will ruin your life.

The argument that you cannot be addicted to marijuana is ridiculous. Whether or not the body craves it, the mind craves it and the sense of calm it gives. Nobody's body is addicted to Warcraft, and yet how many guys do you see vegetating in front of their computers?

Pot is, in no way or form, a "better alternative drug." The effects are especially severe on teenagers. Short term, marijuana has been proven to hinder the parts of the mind that control memory, attention, and learning. Long term, users are faced with cancer, as well as lung, airway, and immune system damage. Weed causes as much harm as cocaine, heroin, and alcohol.

For illegal drugs in general, any happiness gained is completely artificial. Would you rather have real emotions from real experiences that you've been through in real life or fake emotions from chemicals messing with your brain?

Pot negatively affects family relationships, school performance, and everyday activities, and will destroy hope of a future with a decent job. There are, however, both in-patient and out-patient programs that can help marijuana-addicts regain normal lives.

Bimbos of the world are working to legalize marijuana. Please, if you are one of these people, channel your efforts towards more useful causes, such as poverty relief or education in Third World countries-- Earth would be a much better place.

Olivia: Your breath smells like marijuana. Again. You know what I've told you about that.
Steve: I don't fucking care, you fucking brat.
O: Look at the time. Five in the morning. You're ruining your life. Heck, you don't even go to school anymore.
S: Leave me alone.
O: Look, I'm saying this because I'm your sister and I care about you. (Olivia starts crying.) You can still stop this, with help. Please, Steve.
S: (screaming now) Shut the fuck up!
(Dad is alerted.)
Dad: (screaming from his room upstairs) Two fucking hours ago you said you'd be home!
S: Whatever. (under his breath) Faggot.
(Dad comes down and takes in son warily)
D: Get your act together, I'm going to sleep. (He pauses then speaks with icy carefulness) If you steal my car again, I'm calling the police. I won't mention you're my son, because you'll have been disowned.
S: Dad...
(Dad goes into his room and slams door. Steve starts to cry. Olivia puts a hand on his shoulder)
O: You can still get help.
(Steve pulls away and retreats to his room)

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