I thought as much. As soon as I get a good argument on any point, you default on the basic freedoms arguement until you can think of something better.
Fine. Destroy your own body. Destroy your own life. Quash your own ambitions, don't get a promotion, and don't succeed. Get a job at WalMart until you're seventy, don't give a rat's furry arse, and toxify your own house.
But don't pollute my atmosphere with that nasty shit, don't tell my kids that it's a good idea, don't tell me that it's good for me, and don't you come, wheezing, hacking, and coughing, to a hospital looking for a place to put your sorry corpse when you have multiple cancers of the lungs, a severe psychological addiction to marijuana drug and god knows what else that it would take months to get you off of, bronchitis from prolonged smoke inhalation, tumorous growths all along your upper chest area, and convulsions from withdrawal that shake you so hard you'll wish you were dead. The worst bit is -- you just might be.
So go forth, and be nothing but a statistic. I'm saying goodbye to this conversation. Even if you don't listen to me, and even if not all of these happen to the letter, I can only hope you listen now, so years down the road, you don't just wish you had.
But if you don't care enough about the future to do anything about it now, then you've just become more evidence of animalistic hyperbolic gratification.