My wife wants me to quit the smokes. I've been trying, like. It's been two days since I've had a puff of poison. The missus has left for work and
I've found a pack of Marlboros that has three withered, stale, and limp imitations of a cigarette left in it.
Ah...cancer has never tasted so well. It's sad, really. However, self denial sucks bawls - and I'm really lazy.
-bd
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