Looking Back on… Smoking part 1: Where’s my revolution? (Commentary, 8/02)

Smoking part 1: Where’s my revolution? (I’m skipping a few weeks of older content, mostly because The Truth is annoying the ever-loving fuck out of me, and I don’t even smoke cigarettes anymore.)

So, anyway, the other day I’m sitting outside of my place of work, enjoying one of the few pleasures left in my life, that being smoking. (That sounds morose, but to be fair, I worked in retail at the time.) Now, I don’t know about you, but I personally enjoy smoking, as it’s a reasonable way to relieve stress, a lot less time consuming than playing video games or writing, and less illegal than masturbation (in public) or murder. (Eh. Logically at this point it’s mostly the fact that, once you get addicted to smoking, a lack of nicotine causes stress attacks, and you develop an oral fixation that needs filling, so really, it’s better not to start.) I imagine some of you thinking of a mental picture involving at least one of, if not BOTH simultaneously, of the following ideas as I were to enact them. Please keep in mind, while I do feel bad for your suffering upon imagining that, I have to LIVE with this body, so trust me, you’ll live. You’ve probably imagined Grandma naked, trust me, I’m not the worst thing you’re imagined. (These days the internet has created and archived so many terrible things that a fat dude jerking off in public is probably on the bottom ten worst things most of us have seen in this lifetime.)

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