Smoke smoke revolution

We’re back on one of my favourite subjects. Tobacco. Now at this juncture I’ve been down to about six to eight cigarettes a day. I don’t want to hear all this “good for you” and “that’s great” twaddle either. It’s bad enough having to listen to it from the various doctors and such. It wasn’t through choice and there is nothing so very great about it except the amount of money I’m saving. Roll your owns that are not my beloved Export A’s just makes the whole thing a thousand times less fun, and that’s just all of that.

But the real revolution around here is that Oliver quit smoking a week ago. He just went from thirty to zero in three days. I guess that that is a really good use for that stubborn streak of his. The one where I’ve learned that once he says no that there is just no point in arguing, wheedling or whining at all. It’s just done.

During the week I collected and washed every ashtray in the house. I put quite a few away. The ones that are still out get emptied and washed a lot more frequently. They are tending to be the ones that are works of art in themselves. I love funky, cool ashtrays. Remember the days when they were everywhere? A lost, fucking art. Well, I’ve got mine and I’ll never give them up. Pry ‘em out of my cold, dead hands you fucking smoking nazi’s!