December 3rd

Smoke Ring Epiphany

By

Skeletal Grace

I wish I was a smoker.

Yeah, yeah… Smokers get lung cancer and die, and nevermind that they spend $300 a month financing their ultimate demise. No… It doesn’t matter. I still WISH I fucking smoked.

See, as a smoker you have an automatic license to just kinda hang around. You got a few minutes to spare? You’re waiting for someone? Just lean against that wall, light up and quietly observe your fellow rat-racers scurrying about their business. Nobody is going to look at you funny for just standing there. After all, you’re smoking.

Now try and do that without smoking. Lo and behold; you will look like a fucking psycho. “Who is that motherfucker just standing there?” – “I don’t know but this crazy ass stalker’s got another thing coming if he thinks he can hang outside my store all day.”

Smoke – You’re cool and can check out the ladies as they walk by.

No smoke – You’re a Peeping Tom taking to the streets, and the cops will find you and haul your ass into the station for disturbing the peace and loitering.

Same thing with work. Can you imagine saying to your boss. “You know what? I’m just gonna go outside and stand around for a while. Come and get me if my phone rings.”

Only as a smoker do you get away with that shit.

What other habit could I pick up to get the same privileges? “Yo, Vinnie, I’m taking five to play with my fingers.” – “Excuse me, boss. I need to go down to the kiosk and gamble on horses for 15 minutes.” – “Dude, I’m so horny. I am just going to the bathroom to jerk off. See you later.”

No… It only works if you smoke. Smart ass motherfuckers.

And we all die before they do anyway. That bus with the faulty brakes never hits the guy with the bad cough and a Pall Mall dangling from his lips.