Camels

So THEN…. There’s this chick…. see, we went to a drum circle thingy at the beach for a little while.. you know, i mean there drummers and dancers and what all and a big deal on the beach but it IS still, ya know, technically, a circle drawn in the sand at the ocean? well. THIS chick.. I am trying to act like I am Alexander Levy or Jayme Lawson and take cool pics of them and i tried really hard to get good pics of her dancing. well. i am sitting OUTSIDE the drum circle smoking a camel. she comes around handing out flowers. she says “you get rid of that cigarette! We have no smoking in the drum circle.. i look over at the guy with some sort of incense burning in a goat horn or something…. i say “excuse me?” she then went all Linda Blair and growls ‘NO SMOKING IN THE DRUM CIRCLE!” then politely “would you like flowah?” SO. i drew a circle around my chair that touched the drum circle and wrote “Smoking Circle” in it and declared no Bitching in the Smoking Circle.

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I have seriously now been told I couldn’t smoke in a circle drawn on a beach? I didn’t like this. See, I get real offended when people tell me I can’t smoke. I have a personal relationship with Camel cigarettes and only Camel cigarettes that begins shortly after my son was born and continues to this day. People are always trying to quit smoking.. Blah blah blah. I’m dying anyway. Me quitting smoking is like painting a car with a rod knocking? And besides that, smoking is good for you. It calms you. It offers solace. Throughout every single solitary crisis I have ever endured, there has always been one constant, one friend, one ever present companion that has never failed me besides the good lord himself.. Camels. Just seeing that little brown camel with the lions head and the naked man comforts me, cures my homesickness, and makes me not pinch someone’s head off now and then. Some find the curl of smoke doing a swirly belly dance out of my butt offensive.. I find it beautiful and mysterious. The sweet self indulgence of a first long drag after a sleep or a meal or a good fuck is irreplaceable. The scent and taste of a Camel is like a hug from an old lover. I do smoke a vape, an electronic cigarette sometimes.. But that’s just so I can smoke in the unceasingly growing morphing collusion of every fucking place on earth that doesn’t allow me to smoke. When someone bitches at me for smoking or says you can’t do that here, it pisses me off. It feels like someone is yelling me I can’t bring my old friend into an establishment. It is discrimination of the finest degree.. You don’t want to smell my second hand smoke? Oh sorry.. Let me put this out so we can all smell your ass, armpits, farts, vaginas, and breath! That’s certainly gonna make things smell better! Go eat Big Macs and other greasy crap and chocolate pies and big gulp slurpies and after your quadruple bypass and insulin shot, come back and tell me how my habits are bad for my health… I will quit smoking when they pry the last one out of my cold dead hand. Thank you sweet Turkish splendorous rapture of epic inhaling proportions for all the times you have been there to comfort me in the bad times. I love you, Camels.

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