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May 2008

Suck that Commit lozenge and I'll strap shoes on my feet.
Now I found the reason why my money's all gone. | Friday, 05.09.08
Thank you creepy .jpeg, you just saved another life.
I was at a wedding with my girlfriend a few weeks ago, and since it had been a few hours since my last one, I decided to step outside for a cigarette before dinner. I wasn't really itching for one, but drinks were flowing, and... well, you know how that goes. So there I was, standing outside with some strangers, trading "how are you's" and "where are you from's" when a particularly vulgar older woman (she used the word "pussy" a lot) notified the group that the door had locked behind us, and that we'd have to get someone's attention from inside the party to let us in when were done smoking. When the vulgar woman finished, she starts pounding on the door and our savior walks over. The man that would rescue us from the light drizzle and let us return to our non-smoking friends... his robotic voice buzzed and cracked and wheezed as he opened the door, put the little white mechanical larynx up to his throat and said, "HERE YOU GO, YOU GUYS SHOULD REALLY QUIT SMOKING, HEH HEH HEH."

That wasn't the exact moment that I decided to quit. But it planted the seed.

I'm now down to my last pack, and I already know that I'm going about this all wrong. First off, you're supposed to just throw the pack away when you decide to quit, not finish it and savor every last drag like you're on death row. But, at $7.00 a pack, fuck that, I paid for these things and I'm going to smoke the shit out of them and get some closure. Second - I probably shouldn't announce to the world that I'm quitting, because if I fall off the wagon and someone sees me, they're going to give me shit and I'm going to cry delicious nicotine tears. But, I know myself, and if I write about the process on here, it'll give me the motivation (and nonstop hilarious content) I need to continue. Despite these two vital flaws, I'm still going to do it, and you're going to read about it.


I thought I'd have tons of update fodder... like, countless weepy, rambling updates as I fight the greatest addiction in the world aside from heroin and sex crimes. But, it's been two weeks and two days without a cigarette and I've been fine thanks to my Commit nicotine lozenges. They come in two delicious flavors - Ashtray and Lung Butter, and you can get either 2mg lozenges (if you're a fucking pussy who doesn't smoke in his sleep) or 4mg (slip them directly into your slimy throat hole). The package says that you're supposed to take 1 lozenge every 1 to 2 hours during the first 6 weeks. It also says that you can't eat or drink 15 minutes before taking the lozenge so I'm fucked because it takes me 1 to 2 hours just to finish a lozenge and then it's time for another lozenge so long story short I haven't eaten in 16 days unless you count Commit nicotine lozenges. I've also been grinding them up and doing bumps throughout the day in the men's room at work... this is not a recommended method of nicotine ingestion, but I've found that it's a great afternoon pick-me-up in one of the few places I frequent where doing coke is frowned upon.

I painted this wall yellow so my babies can stare at it and get more smarter.
One of my biggest smoking triggers was driving. Every morning I would get in my car, start it up, light a cigarette and start my day off like the fucking Marlboro Man... if he worked in IT and drove a sedan. Oftentimes I would ration my cigarettes the night before, just to make sure I had at least one waiting for me in the car the next morning. You see, smokers have a portion of their brain that is strictly dedicated to smoking - it keeps a running tally of how many cigarettes you have left in a pack, the elapsed time since your last cigarette, and the location (and hours) of every deli, liquor store and convenience store in a 5 mile radius at all times. Once you quit, you have to find something to occupy that part of your brain... for example, I've learned conversational French and Japanese. All in two weeks! I've also taken up swimming, cycling, rock climbing, paint balling, hang gliding, glide hanging, boot blacking, archery, botany, masonry, lock picking, lock smithing, wine tasting and ice sculpting. Who knew that smoking was holding me back from all of these things? Those obnoxious anti-smoking ads were so right!

I've also been spending a lot of time fancy-ing up my new apartment. For instance, I painted a wall yellow. Y'know, just for the sake of painting it yellow. Then I found out that a wall that's painted a random color is actually called something (an accent wall), and felt significantly less cool about my yellow wall. I blame the goddamned Martha Stewart stay-at-home clones that roam the aisles of Wal-Mart, searching high and low for that perfect bundle of twigs that will really "tie the eatery nook together without looking too woodsy, y'know?". Always naming shit. Always stealing my ideas before I can think of them. Anyway, my new apartment is so much better than the last one. No bees, no beeping, no upstairs neighbors that call the cops on me when my Rock Band party gets out of hand (although, time will tell if my new neighbors are cool with rocking out to Say It Ain't So at 3:00 in the morning [and they better be]).

So there it is. My "I quit smoking" update (with a slight "My New Apartment" deviation at the end). I'm not going to bombard you with scary cancer statistics, or go into the reasons as to why I started in the first place (hint: I looked fucking cool as hell). But here's the reason why I quit: I like being alive, and there are too many people in my life that would be really upset if I died. For instance, my blog audience (or, blogience). Who would update the site if I was dead? I mean, I barely update this shit now, but there's still that 1/365 chance that I'll throw something up here once a year, right? I'll do better blogience, I swear. I just quit smoking for christ's sake, get off my fucking back.

My Old Apartment starring in YOU SEE THAT SHIT?
euch god | Wednesday, 05.07.08
Hi there! Remember all of my old updates about bees swarming and hollering and carrying on outside my bedroom window? See below for VIDEO PROOF. Also, drown me in well wishes and good tidings, as I have moved out of the shithole apartment featured in the video below.

Ok, I swear to god, there were bees out there. Seriously. Swarms of them. Buckets full. Coming soon - actual updates. Just as soon as I finish up GTA IV.



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