Butt Out of my Habit

Brace yourselves. Some of you may not know….. I’m a smoker. Yeah. Whew! Glad that’s off my chest. Not that it’s a secret. Just that people are often surprised to find out.. What with my being in such tip top shape.

*ahahahahahahah *cough* *gasp* *wheeze* ahahahahah*

So. They’ve upped the price on cigarettes again.  A “sin tax”. *rolls eyes*  and this on the heals of the blow last January when they shifted us to the door jams and alleys between dives from the inner haven of bars we had previously enjoyed as the last place on earth to use an ashtray.

Some might consider quitting.  (me)  Those would be QUITTERS.  (not me)

(don’t confuse quitters with quilters. I can fucking quilt with the best of them though I don’t have the right purse to hang with ‘em and the old bitties never shut up about their goddamn diseases, pets and grandchildren in that order)

We all know how fucking cool smoking is and always has been. The way those slender bitches are always there. The graceful curve of life smoke dissipating all around you. The smoke and burn and breathe of alive and dead and take me and fuck you. The “I brought you into this world and I can take you out” of ‘em.

Now, on top of that… we’re forming an elite. We are fewer. And we’re being herded into contained cement areas lined with fun house mirrors. As if seeing ourselves would do anything but reinforce our suicidal tendencies.

Now that I have to step outside and congregate amongst my kind… I’m finding once again how much I dislike me/we. I mean… those people smell bad. And they’re loud. And it might be fair to say that more of them live in trailers than not.

Course the nicotine gets me through it.


I’m not judging! I’ve lived in a trailer. Good times *elbows sisser trailer sharer to remind her of all those cigarettes I smoked in there “don’t tell mom!”* So what I’m saying is… my loyalty is to the suck , to the feed to the static buzz of “I’m okay” NOT to you other fucking assholes with Butts.

There are exceptions of course. I probably don’t mean you.  Just… why don’t you step off ten feet and let me slow die in peace? K? thanks.


April 10, 2009