Quoth our little man on the prairie:
One of the pipe's disadvantages: you never really know when it's going to go out. Today I decided to smoke a bit on the way to class. When I arrived at my destination, my pipe still emitted a merry plume. I dawdled outside, sipping at it, but time was ticking away and there was an embryology quiz to take. I didn't want to just dump my tobacco, it's precious stuff after all. I tried turning the pipe upside down on a flat surface to deny it oxygen. Nothing doing. Regretfully, I carefully dumped the topmost layer of tobacco out, and the plume slackened. I put the pipe in my pocket and went in and took my quiz. A noticeable haze followed me wherever I went, however.
I recently took yet-another longevity quiz. For once, I answered each question honestly. I should have lied.
When the results told me I had, on average, only twenty more years to live, I made a list of things I should do immediately to increase my projected life span:
- exercise
- eat less meat
- eat more fruits and vegetables
- eat less prepared/pre-packaged food
- floss regularly
- take an aspirin a day
- smoke less
- get more (and better) sleep
Tony found the list on my desk. "What's this?" He asked.
"A list of habits I need to change," I said.
"You smoke?" he said.
"Yeah," I said. "I've been smoking my pipe lately."
"So much that you need to stop?"
"Maybe once or twice a week — I really enjoy it. But any smoking is bad for you," I said. Tony smokes cigarettes. And chews tobacco. He laughed.
That night, I sat on the porch and smoked with Jeremy and Mike. Mike and I had a puff of the Brandybuck leaf while Jeremy ripped through five cigarettes. (Jeremy smokes at light speed.) We sipped a bit of Tamnavulin (which, contrary to my belief, is not a drink Dave invented).
Good times.
I probably lost a few days of my life there on the back porch that evening, but you know what? I don't care.
Now if only I could make myself floss regularly.
On this day at foldedspace.org
2005 — Autumn Comes In which signs of autumn abound.
2003 — Heart of the Family In which I am home, sick. In which the kitten is the heart of the family. In which we can't get enough Six Feet Under.
So, you've discovered my little subterfuge, eh? Oh well. Nothing lasts forever. Had we an evening session scheduled I was planning on bringing some to the table.