Crosswords and Cigarettes...The Little Things

So I sit, rolling a cigarette in my hands, and I find myself doing what I do a lot when I smoke...I think. Nothing much, really. I am not often a deep thinker. Sometimes it is just enough to break a long standing bout of writers block (i.e. I have, once again, been drinking too much and watching a lot of X-Files). Mostly though, its just about the little things. Like how I never knew that Fugazi was a term meaning fake and that I learned that through a crossword puzzle. Interesting.

Also, how can something so simple cause so much unhinged rage and depression? I am a man that is very serious about his crossword puzzles. The excitement I feel when I deduce that, 'Listed one by one' is a clue for, 'enumerated.' Or the crippling defeat when I realize that the word, 'oboe' has baffled and escaped me for an hour. Fucking oboes. Who plays the fucking oboe?

Fucking dick

Cigarette finished, I now look over my crafted piece and mentally pick it apart...I always do this (i.e. I gave it a whale belly, those few strands of tobacco sticking out of the end will probably fall off and burn my leg, the mouth bit is twisted too tight and is going to drag like ass). Then I realize that I am quite critical of everything I do. I think everyone is critical of themselves to some point (unless you are Nick Nolte, Charlie Sheen, or Nicolas Cage) but I just take this shit to a whole new level. I can't write a single joke article on the Internet without tearing it apart and hating it, every cigarette I roll looks and feels uglier than Christian Bale in The Machinist. I think the only time I don't do this is when I am drinking heavily.

Finally. my rolling and mental checklist complete, I light the thing. I hate butane lighters because they always make the first drag taste fuck awful. I instead prefer the timeless really old (invented in China in 577 A.D.) match. It tastes sweet, not like farts, and leaves a pleasant little scent to hang out and mix with the cigarette smoke. After a few drags, I calm down. I forget my inward negativity, I nearly do not hate most of the people I see, I might even think that Firefly fans are not fucking insane (only for a short, beautiful moment).

Fuck, a three letter word for, 'Hubbub'. ASS

Three letter word for...'FUCKING AWESOME!'

I also hate filters. They ruin everything. They kill the taste, leave a weird dry feeling in my mouth, and make the cigarette last for a much shorter time span (I can suck down a filtered smoke like...well, thrown in a generic pornographic joke. I just don't have the motivation.). Seriously, all you smokers that have never had the joyous experience of an unfiltered cigarette just won't understand. The taste difference is mind blowing (yes, cigarettes actually can be delicious) and the harshness (most people equate the lack of filter to the possibilty of being unYourGodly harsh) really isn't too different. I mean, shit, its all gonna kill us...might as well enjoy it to the max.

I am the Hugh Grant of the cigarette world. Just fucking terrible.

 

Hmm, I guess Ado is an acceptable word for, 'Hubbub.' Whatever.

Sorry this one wasn't very funny. I am in a weird mood. But at least I started writing again. So, hopefully you will get some laughs later in the week. Thanks again, for the read