Smoking kills.
Yes, smoking kills
Yet without these sticks of vermin I may not have started associating with certain people of whom I now 'waste' parts of my day with. Whatever the weather we are huddled up clinging onto these little fuckers discussing our childhood television programmes, our fellow house mates and comparing whose nan is loosing it the quickest.
The glory hole.
Where arguments start, honesty is questioned and friendships are momentarily lost.
With our back against the wall (literally not metaphorically) we throw our tar infected stub aiming to get it into the magical tray, points are gained for each successfully thrown butt into the tray.
Olympics 2012, here we come.
I for one am honoured to be a permanant fixture to the wall...even if I am currently suffering the smoker's equivalent to 'writer's block'
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