Smoking, In Repose
Somehow, embraceably lovely.
The smoking issue came to a massive head and it's one of those things you try not to announce because generally people expect you to fail and the guilt of "told ya so" isn't a choice item on my menu. I think everyone secretly wants you to fail, even if they never smoked simply for the reason of being a superior asshole. I'm down to about 3 a day, from a pack and a half daily. I'm making no promises to myself and have a very weird outlook on quitting that I'm not ready to talk about, but eventually will. I can say however that I'm crabby, restless, extremely over-run with anxiety, and otherwise feeling like behaving as would a two year old who is denied ice cream. I really will go into more depth in time, for now... that is why I'm distancing myself from many people. I'm a strong advocate that irrational people need to stay away from the normal public lest they embarrass themselves and end up buying a million "I was such a douche!" sorry cards. Quitting smoking is not an attractive state of person. We hate people for something as simple as they are wearing socks and violently heckle them on the streets. Oh look at you, all happy in your SOCKS! Whoopdeedoo sock wearer! The petty has yet to fail.
Tomorrow the next fucker I see buying a banana is getting hit with one. They say it's best to formulate a quitting plan, so Banana Tuesday is set to go. Bail Me Out Wednesday to follow. Thursday on is wide open.
Whilst on my perch photoed above, I saw something that in five years of living in my house I did not know was a resident. Half a bed frame. What will I do with a tiny ass brass frame? I don't know, but wanna make bets on injuries or the manner in which I plan to get it, pretty much for the sake of just getting at it. It even comes with a hanger.
This is what came with the house to "get at" stuffs. Don't mock it's seeming simple ways, NASA totally vouches for my wall ladder.
Being that I'm home alone most of the time and lost McCauley's number, this could prove to be a great problem to both myself and the dogs who are always curious for front row self destruct tickets. I may just poke it with a broom until it falls and hope for the best.
My point is, that DM's will fuck with anything.... DM's on withdrawl are unstoppable. Must be busy, must glare at strangers, must write letters to the post office that their incessant giving me coupons by the pound into my cubicle of a mailbox is wasted on a girl with no job and this is not the week to offer me a buy one get one free since I can't buy one you mean spirited smug hopefuls wishing the have nots will forgo a meal for the sake of your precious outsourced heals that break in a week anyway.
Might be time for a stick of that nasty gum, of which I'll save you the entire rant of. I can sum it up that if smoking is gross..... so is chewed up fragments of whale blubber stuck to your clothes, bare feet, glued to the countertops and if you are very lucky.... your hair survived a "new" haircut that day.
- DM
The smoking issue came to a massive head and it's one of those things you try not to announce because generally people expect you to fail and the guilt of "told ya so" isn't a choice item on my menu. I think everyone secretly wants you to fail, even if they never smoked simply for the reason of being a superior asshole. I'm down to about 3 a day, from a pack and a half daily. I'm making no promises to myself and have a very weird outlook on quitting that I'm not ready to talk about, but eventually will. I can say however that I'm crabby, restless, extremely over-run with anxiety, and otherwise feeling like behaving as would a two year old who is denied ice cream. I really will go into more depth in time, for now... that is why I'm distancing myself from many people. I'm a strong advocate that irrational people need to stay away from the normal public lest they embarrass themselves and end up buying a million "I was such a douche!" sorry cards. Quitting smoking is not an attractive state of person. We hate people for something as simple as they are wearing socks and violently heckle them on the streets. Oh look at you, all happy in your SOCKS! Whoopdeedoo sock wearer! The petty has yet to fail.
Tomorrow the next fucker I see buying a banana is getting hit with one. They say it's best to formulate a quitting plan, so Banana Tuesday is set to go. Bail Me Out Wednesday to follow. Thursday on is wide open.
Whilst on my perch photoed above, I saw something that in five years of living in my house I did not know was a resident. Half a bed frame. What will I do with a tiny ass brass frame? I don't know, but wanna make bets on injuries or the manner in which I plan to get it, pretty much for the sake of just getting at it. It even comes with a hanger.
This is what came with the house to "get at" stuffs. Don't mock it's seeming simple ways, NASA totally vouches for my wall ladder.
Being that I'm home alone most of the time and lost McCauley's number, this could prove to be a great problem to both myself and the dogs who are always curious for front row self destruct tickets. I may just poke it with a broom until it falls and hope for the best.My point is, that DM's will fuck with anything.... DM's on withdrawl are unstoppable. Must be busy, must glare at strangers, must write letters to the post office that their incessant giving me coupons by the pound into my cubicle of a mailbox is wasted on a girl with no job and this is not the week to offer me a buy one get one free since I can't buy one you mean spirited smug hopefuls wishing the have nots will forgo a meal for the sake of your precious outsourced heals that break in a week anyway.
Might be time for a stick of that nasty gum, of which I'll save you the entire rant of. I can sum it up that if smoking is gross..... so is chewed up fragments of whale blubber stuck to your clothes, bare feet, glued to the countertops and if you are very lucky.... your hair survived a "new" haircut that day.
- DM
posted by DMorgan's Zoo at
6:13 PM
3 Comments:
Ms M, when you explore the garage rafters, please be sure and take a cell phone (I know you don't possess one), so that I can come by and catch you once you're stuck. I see you now, all legs akimbo, with K and The Russian watching happily below.
Hang in there on the smokelessness. You may inspire me. Nothing else will, it seems.
My god how well you know me.
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