Sometimes I think about buying a pack of cigarettes.
There is something so visually and manually appealing to me about smoking a cigarette. It looks enjoyable, it looks luxurious, it looks like, “I don’t give a fuck about the indefatigable march of time, I’m gonna sit here and spend three minutes smoking this thing.”
But man, they do not deliver.
I mean, I can find them enjoyable at times… when they don’t immediately turn me off with their stink and flavor and headaches and sore throats and morning-after hangover.
Also written on this day...
- three-hundred-thousand hour service - 2011
- daddy-daughter hiking - 2010
- obama bought us a car - 2009
- best of 2007.5 - 2007
- room to move - 2006
- chapter two - 2005
- poop ship destroyer - 2004