Twelve years ago, Pot Culture Magazine lit up for the first time. Since then, it’s weathered disappearances, rebirths, and 690 articles fueled by grit and loyalty to the cannabis community. In this anniversary editorial, founder Matthew Roberts reflects on the misfires, milestones, and madness of keeping an independent weed publication alive in a click-chasing world.
Scam in the Can
Willie Nelson’s face is on the can, but the weed isn’t in it. Pot Culture rips the lid off the hemp drink hustle, where celebrity branding and legal loopholes sell weak THC as wellness. This is not cannabis culture. This is a scam wrapped in citrus.
Dealer’s Guide to Dealing
Some dealers get it right. Most don’t. Pot Culture Magazine lays out the unspoken rules for weed dealers who want to stay relevant, respected, and in business. From not licking the bag to texting back like an adult, this guide is for the real ones who move smart, weigh it right, and never leave their customers guessing.
Blazed and Buried: Why Cannabis Burial Pods Are a Real Thing Now
The cannabis burial pod is no longer a meme; it is a marketed product. From THC-themed urns to eco-friendly grow kits made from your ashes, the green death movement is cashing in. But is it spiritual innovation, late-stage capitalism, or both? Pot Culture digs into the legality, science, and surreal branding behind this morbid cannabis trend.
Reefer Report Card: The Week in Weed,June 15, 2025 – Vol. 01
From Florida’s latest crackdown on medical cannabis patients to MedMen’s final financial faceplant and a wave of ridiculous stoner gifts flooding New York dispensaries, Pot Culture Magazine launches its new weekly series grading the chaos, comedy, and contradictions of the cannabis world. It’s opinionated, researched, and raw. Welcome to the Reefer Report Card.
I Survived Bonnaroo ’25 and All I Got Was This Cough and a Chemical Tan
A Gen X misfit wanders into the blistering chaos of Bonnaroo 2025, expecting to cover a music festival and instead finds himself knee-deep in vape clouds, serotonin depletion, and existential glitter. What follows is a fictionalized descent into cultural confusion, heatstroke, and a rave tent that may or may not be a septic tank.