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Thursday, December 24, 2009

Don't forget your Christmas smokes

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  1. Cancer never looked so darn jolly!


  2. Cancer stix aside, there is something a little creepy about the Santa in the first vid.

  3. General, Sir:

    Well, this is a fine "howd'ya'do!". All them ads for coffin nails and not a single mention of what REAL MerKKKins use for their nicotine levels maintenance. That's right--no Santa doin' dip! I can member my old uncle Snuffy; why he used to have a chaw of RedMan in his cheek that was the exact same size and shape as the tumor he mysteriously got in his mouth a few years later! I used to love snugglin' up to him and inhaling the fragrance of his snow white ('cept the brown streak down the middle, sort of a "reverse skunk" thing) whilst he regaled me about his stories of runnin' cigarettes and unstamped liqour from NC to NYC. He kinda reminded me of Santa, at that, what with his sneakin' in and out of folks houses a lot of nights (his bag was empty when he went in but, miraculously, it was always full when he came out!). Yeah, I miss old unc Snuff--but I egress from my main pointlessness.

    Sir, you did a series of posts, not too long ago, on some good ol boys who were dippin' whilst carryin' on about that Kenyafascistlizard Obamandingo. I bet them fellers wish that ol' Santa would bring them some Skoal or Bandit for their christmas stockings. Maybe he can include some coupons good for chemo and radiation treatements too.

    Merry Kwanzanalikahmas to you and the rest of the troops, Sir. BTW, that check I asked for the other day still hasn't come. I just borrowed a little from the petty cash box ($71,482.91), I'll put it back as soon as your check clears. Oh, yeah, did you know ALL your credit cards were cancelled--I mean the ones I use?

  4. This year, of course, Santa is selling global-warming-denialism.

    Happy Holidays, all. And yes, I said Happy Holidays.


  5. Ah yes, I miss the good old days, when cigarettes were toasted and cereal was shot from guns. Happy Merry Whatever The Hell to you fine, fine peeps.

  6. Not a cough in a carload.

  7. Try smoking a carload of unfiltered Camels in one sitting -- you'll cough, brother.

    Seasonal Greetings to all and sundry -- if you spend quality time with the family (not that accursed Family on C Street, of course), I hope you have a quality family to spend it with.

    Should you be like the other 90 percent of us, enjoy your drunken holiday stupor and may the massive idiocy of your relatives be drowned out by the popping corks of the bottle. (Of course, there are always natural herb remedies as well that can be used in combination with alcohol or alone.)

  8. Tattlesnake, I raise an Xmas Eve toast to you.

    And to the rest of you, as well! May you all have reason to sleep in tomorrow - as well as the opportunity!.

  9. Happy Holidays, Troops!

  10. I will be putting something up at my house (other than the Xmas pantyhose)!

  11. If I was still in Australia, Christmas would already be over, and I'd have sweatstains under my armpits, unless I was wearing a singlet.

    Now I'm fighting to stay awake on a midnight shift, playing Santa Claus with enemas and pain med injections, hoping that no one violates my work motto: "You're not going to die on MY shift." (Had one almost break that rule yesterday, but I came good by literally FIVE minutes. Good for me, not so much for him, poor bastard...)

  12. As I think back to my happy years on the respiratory ward in Melbourne, watching smokers waste away from emphysema, I reflect on what a bad rap cigarettes have gotten.

    Sure, you spend a couple of years dying slowly, gasping for air like a beached fish when you attempt something even so simple as staggering from your easy chair to the bathroom. (Heavy smokers sometimes begin to skip the "going into the bathroom" part of that equation, which is why you want to be careful when stinky Uncle Ed invites you to come and sit and chat a while in his house trailer.)

    And people with lung cancer get pitifully thin and suffer agonizing pain. But they're the Luckys (brand-name pun intended) because they only last a year or two after it gets bad -- people with COPD linger for two or three times that long.

    But all that people can focus on is the few years at the end of a smoker's life that they spend dying of it, years when those people were going to be old and wrinkly and sick anyway. What about the YEARS of pleasure they had from puffing? Add up the 5 minutes or so it takes to burn through a fag (20 in a pack = 100 minutes of good times!) Multiply that times the years of a smoker's life (before they reach the blood-tinged sputum stage). that's a load of pure pleasure. Looking good waving that ember in your hand, feeling peppy, having something to accompany your morning coffee or talking on the phone or drinking at the bar (before smoke-wowsers RUINED it for everybody)... I tell ya, those little increments of burning joy counter-balance the early death.

    So give someone you love a carton of smokes next Christmas.(I'm too late with holiday wishes this year.) Maybe even your teen-age children! If they take up this pleasurable habit, it will be a gift they CAN'T get rid of, and they'll think of how you got them started at it every time they light up...

  13. That's gotta be Thurl Ravenscroft* as the Camel Santa (or an imitator).

    I've posted a very cool old LP of A Child's Introduction to Melody that he did:

    * Tony The Tiger, "Your A Mean One, Mr Grinch"

  14. Bukko, you said a lungful. I hate those things with every fiber of my being. What pisses me off is that the FDA will yank a sweetener off the shelf so fast it will make your head spin if a 500-times-normal dose gives a rat cancer, yet cigarettes, which are known human killers at 'regular' dosages, are perfectly legal. And they claim 'personal choice' even though the insanely high addiction factor takes away most of that 'personal choice' - unlike drugs or alcohol, which are usually dangerously addictive only to those with addictive personalities, cigarettes are addictive to practically everyone who smokes them, and more difficult to kick than heroin.

    Thanks, pigs, for making fortunes from your death-dealing products. I hate you.

  15. Alicia, you gotta ask yourself one question re: the FDA -- how much tax revenue comes from cyclamates, and how much comes from cigarettes? Therein you will find the anwer to the question "Why?"

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We'll try dumping haloscan and see how it works.