I don’t see how you could smoke a Winston.  They were all hot.  The tobacco seemed old, so, it was dry, and it  a bad aftertaste.  I was surely glad that I was rarely so broke that I had to bum cigarettes off my buddy Bryan Stamos, but, he didn’t seem to mind.  He didn’t seem dumb enough to buy Marlboros for me.  You got to stick with your own even if its shitty, I guess.

My brand was Marlboro, like I said.  It was very standard.  I liked the hit it gave you in the typical configuration; that is : red, in a box.  It was strong so it saves money.  You have to really want one or you’ll get over nicotinized.  That is, there are times you “want” one.  “I have to have one after dinner”, for instance.  No.  You can’t have one in the house, so, when your ass has to arise from the dinner table, you plop it back down outside.  There are thus clock times, not multiplication times, as in, “I want one fifteen times a day, on average.”  You don’t.  Your corpus collosum punishment circuit mke you averse and that is your motivation, not, “Oh, my segmented area is firing off I need a frajoe on my pleasure circuit.”  Right.  If that’s true, addiction would not have a bad name.

Oh, well.  What do we got here?  Well, Rob Reiner’s a Jew, a famous Jew famously Jewish.  IOW Carl is, playing a boss.  Saw him, then I seen Michael Douglas (I seen him the color of his insides on diagram (smoke testicular) the floor of the throat), and time = bigger, and Michael doesn’t take good care of himself like a Jew.  Who wants to be fatter?  Who is fatty today?

We got ‘taste’ on the line?  Oh, yeah?  Marlboro’s the largest selling brand, that’s all, no taste or anything.  I don’t think these people can taste anything.  The model in the ad, for intance.  Bad luck he was real, with the cancer reaching out to the lymph noes and up to the lips, inexorbly.  It isn’t taste, it’s “swallow”.  That’s “bless you” you sneezed; now all that meat is fuel, brush for the cancerous fire.  You don’t eat, you feed; little curtains cover the front of some of them, the “tube feeders”, most unlucky mothefuckers on the planet.  It isn’t really “luck”; there is no such thing as luck.  What it was was due to some reason rather than being the result of favoritism; that is, merely fortuitous in case you are suspicious of the result and wonder how it came to be that way.  I’ve been watching Douglas breathe in his later movies.  Don’t worry from breath.  Some machine’s doing that for you.  taste, nourishment, swallowing, breath, and now comes packaging.

Why?  Is the good to be found in aversion?  Oh, yeah.  Motivated by a desire to stop the pain, Alan quit smoking when he got the cancer.  That makes the radiation take.  However, that might be fiction.  He was told to stop.  Hey, being a male model was the world’s greatest compliment.  It didn’t mean you had to utilize the client’s product to that end.  Wish you cold have gotten the best of both worlds, boy.  They must make male models dumb, dumb, dumb!  Christ.

Don’t suck dick, and don’t suck clits.  That’s where the Human Papilloma Virus (HPV) lives.  When you are osculating, you are performing fellatio to the god of sucking dick, like a baby.  That habit was there first and is harder to break.  They suck anything,  they will suck your nose.  Only a dick gets sucked off without coming off, BTW.  It stays on, IOW.  this is “off” in the sense of Aristotle (or Beetlejuice), deduct “get”; the condition of now off, no longer stuck.  Not a big distinction.

How do you quit smoking?  No, this is the blog on how to make methamphetamine, to have the root “make”, not “making”, as, who is going to put a suffix on a search term?  How many facetious how-tos do you think male latent homosexuals have put out there?  They’re false advertising; more under the rubric of how to fall victim.  I mean to tell you how to short-circuit the machine, what constitutes political action, how to infiltrate, simple methods for tapping a vast resource.  We all form the target-rich environment for a mean, rigged game run by a cyclopic, single-minded entity; if it has a name, International Jewry.  It ruins countries.  My connection to nature is important and I can still have a country; that’s what it is, “Going up the country.”  Country here, country there, country everywhere until somebody starts the machine-gun emplacements and wipes us out.  Fortune has delivered our lives to us in a trillion cells.  Deal with them.

Camels were too strong.  At least, Winston and Marlboro had less between them than those, but after you smoke them for awhile, you will buy them.  You twist them up in your undershirt sleeve; it’s before the box, or, instead of the box.  Djarum, a clove-containing cigarette, could hold the title for the strongest.  Camels cause a raft of tar to climb the throat on little caterpillar legs, but cloves make you cough up pieces of tissue.  Scary, but full of flavor, of the taste (code for the desperate craving and deep psycholgical need which can be quieted for a half-hour by a dose of nicotine).  It wasn’t Winston and Marlboro slugging it out, was it?  It was the nicotine cartel slugging it out with us.  No?  I thought they got five dollars a pack now.  Vending machines.  That’s how you buy lab equipment anonymously.

What if it says something on a matchbook?  I have two black ones, Get-it-On, and The Black.  They are smoke shops.  What if I go there with my cocaine profits and display to them just what their glass is used for.  I know, I know.  I’ll say, “Do you have a back room, sir, so I can do a line?  I’ll glagly gib you one for letting us use it.  Come on.”  You go back there and pitch a scenario where instead of one car boar box of matchbooks he orders fifty.  Then, get a platoon of smurfs consiting of teenage bikini girls to extract the fuckin’ phosphorus and put it in vending machines.  Never mind, I’m coming down.

I need the  Mar Burros to keep coming and flashing their horsey hump.  We’re not cummerbund, we are latigo and pressed ham.  I’ing guip-guick- QUIT yesterday.  I mean tommarl.


One Response to “WTF LOL”

  1. sbillinghurst Says:

    When they are thinking that more is more, whether it is the same poison or a new one, that’s wrong. There are differnt kinds enough. Don’t think you have crack, that try go shooting with the heroin kids, uh, tha tha’d be cool. Ya learn ’bout, beebops, jelly stingers, zum-zums, wham whaz ma taz, not good at all. Turns out like Kirt Cobain. I c’n áve some serious scag while you feed whatever Yazmin’s Savin’ up. Limes f’dessert save them up in a bag…

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