Tag Archives: smoking

Smoking Hot Thanks

29 Apr

Dear Readers:

Do you like my wedding hat?

The Royal Wedding was fabulous!  Kate looked beautiful.  Will was a real-life Prince Charming.  Luckily, for the all the single ladies out there, Harry is still on the market.  How cute is he?

I have a knees up party to prepare for, but I wanted to take a moment to thank everyone for their time and comments (keep them coming).

Please take a moment to like my Facebook page and follow me on Twitter.  You won’t regret it.  I’m brilliant.

Your English  Rose,

DMTF

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It Just Tastes So Good Once It Hits My Lips

21 Mar

I have a love/hate relationship with smoking.   Basically, I love to smoke.  And, I hate myself for it. 

I have the matching t-shirt and tote.

Please don’t judge.  I know it’s bad for my health.  I’m not debating that.  I’m just being honest. 

My nasty habit began long, long ago on a cold and rainy spring day in my friend’s garage.  She had been doing the laundry and found a soft pack of Marlboro Reds rolled up in her brother’s faded, hole-infested Metallica t-shirt.  There was one left.   The whole thing went down like a cheesy After School Special.  We were bored.  We dared each other that the other wouldn’t take a drag.  Five minutes later we’re in the garage coughing up a lung and getting sick to our stomachs.

 My trigger is the smell of a freshly lit cigarette.  The Wisconsin smoking ban has helped curbed this trigger because all bars, restaurants, and campuses are now smoke-free which means I don’t have to smell it.  It also means that  I can smell a cigarette a mile away.   

The other day at school, I walked up on someone sneaking a smoke near a backdoor.  I stood there, frozen, staring at this kid as he took two long, crackling drags off his cigarette.  “What?”,  he said in his cocky 18-year-old voice.  “Nothing”, I silently mouthed.  I continued to stand there and watch him has he texted and smoked, texted and smoked, texted and smoked.  I focused on the sizzling red cherry of that cigarette until all that was left was a burnt little nub.  The entire time I was thinking, “I  love/hate you kid with the snotty attitude who won’t be told what to do, and sneaks out to have a smoke behind the garbage can on a non-smoking campus even at the threat of the rent a cop finding you and giving you a stern talking to”.  I love/hate you. 

I have given up my dirty little carcinogenic habit, for the most part (spoken like a true addict). But, I can do better.  I have to do better.  It’s just that every once in a while the urge to light one up is so intense that I feel like a full-blown junkie.  I get cold sweats, nervous twitches, and I start thinking of what I can trade for a cigarette. 

Excuse me, Sir.  Would you be willing to trade one of your cigs for…..my car?  No?  Oh, ok.  I understand.  Thanks anyway. 

Then, I break a bottle over the bar and shank him with it.

Why did you make me do that?!  I didn’t want to hurt you, man.  I just wanted a smoke.

 Just kidding.  It’s not that bad.  I mean, I don’t actually say that stuff out loud.  I just imagine it. 

Flash forward to this weekend.  It was nice out.  Hubby and I visited some friends, had some wine, and grilled some food.  I caved and a had smoke.  I loved/hated every second of it.

The next day, Son and I are driving in the car together.  He tells me about this cute girl he knows (I suspect he likes her even though he would never tell me). 

Me:    Do you think she’s cute?

Son:  I don’t want to talk about this.

Me.  I’m just asking if you think she’s cute.  It’s a yes or no question.

Son:  I used to think she was cute.

Me.  Used to?

Son:  Yeah.  But, I saw her smoking at a party and it was just……gross.  She smelled like cigarettes all night and I couldn’t talk to her.  I’m glad you quit.  I hated when you smoked.

*Shanked in the heart, punched in the gut guilt*

Readers, forget the E-cigs, the Nicorette, the patches, and the hypnosis.  For the unbelievably low price of $19.99 I will get my Son to come to your house and make you feel like a d-bag.  You’ll never want to smoke again.  

P.S.  Call within the next ten minutes and get a “I’m a d-bag” travel mug . Free!