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How Do You Feel About Weed in the House?

How the fuck can we live together with such different … “hobbies?”


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I live with three weed smokers (including myself) and two straight-edged business majors. We have lived together for almost a year, and while we yell at each other more than bakers at a Brooklyn pizza joint, we also make it work.


So, I asked them the question, “How do you feel about weed in the house?” Here’s what they had to say:


“I love it when I spend an hour cooking a beautiful, fresh dish and go to eat my dinner when my musty ass roommates are blowing hot bong smoke all over my food.” - Carter


“I love weed in the house.” - Sean


“Nothing better to waking up at 8 in the morning to that fucking nasty ass smell everywhere.” - Lance


“Where’s the weed?” - Justin


Personally, I am a big fan of weed in the house. But, after hearing what the non-smokers had to say (you can guess who they are), I knew I had to change something.


For a week, we let the sober ones choose five smoking rules for the house. This is what they came up with:


1. No bong water in the sink

Sorry, but I’m not moving any further than I have to when I’m high. I don’t even want to get off the couch.


2. No smoking until 2 p.m.

Ok, great, let’s just make this place hell.


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3. No leaving weed all over the tables

This is a standard accent to living rooms in Colorado and California, but whatever.


4. No blowing smoke during eating

Alright, I get this one.


5. No mixing with tobacco (it smells like shit)

This has to be some kind of violation of freedom. Let me check the constitution and get back to y’all.


Honestly, waking up that Monday after the rules were created, I had no intention of following them. Still, I figured the least I could do was not toss the bong water in the sink.


Tuesday morning came and the living room was cloudy by 11 A.M. BUT, we waited for a housemate of ours to finish his breakfast. A victory in my opinion.


By Thursday my roommate, Sean, and I were fucking off to his room while our other non-smoker roommate, Carter, cooked. Also, this happened at 3 P.M. That might’ve been our fucking record for latest start in the day.


Now, as I write this on Friday, it’s becoming routine to follow (a few of) these rules. There are still weed crumbs everywhere, but what are you going to do?


So yes, stoners and non-stoners can co-exist (even live in squalor together like a weird kind of family), but I think we knew this. We can’t be the only group of smokers and non-smokers living together in a college house. This is 2021, the nuclear American family looks like us.


I’d love to tell you a step-by-step plan to coexist with your housemates, but that shit doesn’t exist. It sounds cliché as fuck, but all you can do is try. Talk with the people you live with; I’m sure you do something that pisses them off and vice versa.


Pouring the bong water outside won’t create a house full of smiles and rainbows, but it is a step in the right direction. For our house, creating a few rules helped. Find what works for you and your housemates and just keep trying.



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