Wednesday, April 17, 2013


by Mr. Mean-Spirited


If the government wants to tell me that smoking is bad for my health, then I'm going to be a lot more aggressive about where I light up. If all the medical experts insist that something isn't good for my body, I'm going to make a point of indulging. Unless you have a cigarette clutched between your fingers, I don't want to waste time talking to you.

Consider it my role in life, to leave cigarette butts where they are certain to disgust non-smokers. Consider it my God-given vocation, to purchase tobacco for feckless teenagers outside the convenience store. Consider it my good deed for the day, to point out the genetically unfit with their nicotine allergies. Consider my purpose on earth, to send clouds of second-hand smoke toward the health-conscious.

I "pollute the air" with my revolting habit for one reason and one reason only: to make it more difficult for the do-gooders to breathe. Only one thing that I enjoy more than inhaling that first puff of tobacco in the morning and that is taking a drag on a cigarette around an effete non-smoker who is too wimpy to say anything.

I’d rather end-up breathing through my asshole in some cancer ward than give the do-gooders the satisfaction that I quit because of their efforts. Damn right, I smoke.


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