In the illustrious words of a fellow Chicagoan by the name of K. West:

“I met this girl when I was 3 years old And what I loved most she had so much soul She said “Excuse me lil homey, I know you don’t know me But, my name is Windy and I like to blow trees”

Hi, my name is Aris but you can call me Windy. This blog is dedicated to a plant as polarizing as Mr. West, Ms. Mary Jane herself. My earliest marijuana memory is of thirteen year old me rolling blunts in the passenger seat of my then boyfriend’s gold Chevy Blazer. No, I wasn’t smoking, but he was, and he taught me how to roll up so I could do so while he was driving. My first love was a sixteen year old African American that went to an all-boy Catholic High School. To cope with the stringent restraints of the institution and the normal stresses of being a young, black man on the south side of Chicago, he smoked all day, everyday. He would buy a pack of White Owls and roll up all the blunts and put them back in the box and smoke them like cigarettes. I’m not saying this is the way to do it, but I will say that he graduated from said private school as well as college and is doing extremely well for himself today as a real estate consultant and licensed broker.