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True story…my sister works at Walgreens, and saw a heavily pregnant woman with 3 other kids, a trach-hole in her neck and an oxygen tank come into the store to pick up her COPD meds AND cigarettes…then, leaning on her walker outside, put a lit cancer stick up to the hole to take a drag.
It was all my sister could do not to walk out the doors and slap her the rest of the way into her early grave.
I can smell her from here.
Smoking really can be a big chain around your neck
He lit the cigarette and smoked it down to the filter in one breath. He silently thanked the cigarette company for being thoughtful enough about his health to include a filter to protect him. So he lit up another. This time he didn’t exhale the squeaky-clean filtered smoke, but just let it nestle in his lungs, filing his body with that good menthol flavor. Some more smokers knocked on his door and they came in and all started smoking along with him.
“How wonderful it is that we’re all smoking,” he thought.
Everyone smoked and smoked and after they smoked they all talked about smoking and how nice it was that they were all smokers and then they smoked some more.
Smoke, smoke, smoke. They all sang “Smoke That Cigarette” and “Smoke Gets in Your Eyes.” Then the smokers smoked one more cigarette and left him alone in his easy chair, about to relax and enjoy a nice quiet smoke. And then his lips fell off.
^Google “Cruel Shoes”
You are walking down a country road. It is a quiet afternoon. You look up and far, far down the road you see someone walking toward you. You are surprised to have noticed someone so far away. But you keep walking, expecting nothing more than a friendly nod as you pass. He gets closer. You see he has bright orange hair. He is closer – a white satin suit spotted with colored dots. Closer – a painted white face and red lips. You and he are fifty yards apart. You, and a full-fledged clown holding a bicycle horn are twenty yards apart. You approach on the lonely country road. You nod. He honks and passes.
This picture has been there so long I think I’ve got lung cancer.
Film at eleven.
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