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An Introduction To Smoking By Hope W.M. (inspired by the lost Green Day album “Cigarettes and Valentines”) I know they say how horrible it is for you, but I honestly enjoy lighting up. Let me clarify that – I honestly enjoy smoking tobacco. Despite the gagging sensation the first time you do it and the horrible smell that clings to your hair and every-fucking-thing else, smoking is a very pleasurable activity. You simply pull a thin, sleek-and-sexy cancer stick out of your carton, put it to your lips, and flick your lighter until the flame finally meets the tip of your cigarette, and suck the air through so that the smoke passes over the tobacco, through the filter, and through your lips, rolling over your tongue before drifting through your lungs and out again in a smooth, delicious sigh. The box description was right – these do offer “an inspiring moment of satisfaction.” That certainly wasn’t the case the first time I smoked though. I was 16 when I bought my first pack of cigarettes in, of all places, Japan. For the uninformed, Japan has cigarettes and booze readily available in vending machines all throughout the country, with the only thing stopping a wandering, underage dumbass American tourist from buying them being the “honor code”. Besides, I had to have them for the sheer irony and novelty of one of the brands – “Hope Cigarettes”. It’s funny enough to find your name on a box of sin sticks, but come on, Hope Cigarettes? Nether the less, I brought them over here and tried them with the encouragement of my friends. The three of us walked into a tiny neighborhood not too far from the Grove, pulled out our cigarettes, and each took turns with the trusty lighter. They were both experienced smokers, and unfortunately did not choose to inform me that smoking a regular Japanese cigarette is like inhaling a mouthful of searing volcanic ash for a first-timer. As soon as I took a proper puff from my cig, I doubled over in shock and fervently started coughing, wheezing, and gasping for air. They found it quite funny. I stopped smoking Hope Cigarettes, and felt, in all honesty, like a pussy. It wasn’t until I was introduced to the world of light cigarettes by a guy who really is kinda a pussy for smoking light cigarettes that I could truly enjoy them. They’re smooth and nice, and don’t make your lungs feel like you’re inhaling the flames of hell, so you can forget about the damage you’re doing to your body for a little while and savor the moment. However, he quit smoking and my cigarette supply was cut off. It was a dark time indeed (or at least as dark as that could get for a non-addicted smoker), until finally a joyous event occurred in my life to end all of my misery….. I turned 18. I practically bounded into that Famima (Japanese convenience store) market when I was reminded by a friend of my newfound right to smoke myself to death. It was a fine day indeed. I asked the clerk what was a good light cigarette, and he advocated the Mild Seven Super Lights, which he personally smoked and proceeded to praise its smoothness and charcoal flavor. When it came time to pay though, he didn’t card me, which was an unsatisfactory turn for my purchase. Oh well, at least I got them. I now smoke Mild Sevens, and couldn’t be happier. Yes, they’re cancer sticks, but frankly, I don’t give a fuck. Give me your kind opposition, and I’ll kindly give you the bird. A Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good light.
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