nah I think we should really stop glorifying cigarettes
you sound boring.
You sound like you’ve never had the scent of cigarette smoke ingrained in your clothes to the point where people in middle school thought you smoked at eleven because your parents couldn’t be bothered to go outside. You sound like you’ve never had your mother flick cigarette ashes out of the car window and have them fly into your face. You sound like you’ve never been kept up at night by the sound of your dad hacking up a lung because he has to get up for his midnight smoke. You sound like you’ve never had to run into a convenience store to get your mother cigarettes as soon as you turned eighteen and cringed at touching the box because you know they’re not only killers but government sanctioned killers because they can not only tax the shit out of them but ensure people buy more at the cost of young lungs and a once beautiful home now plagued with the smell of smoke and ash. You sound like you’ve never had a great grandmother who stopped smoking 30 years before her death who still got lung cancer and subsequently died. You sound like a Fucking ignoramus. Smoking isn’t Fucking cool, it isn’t fun to glorify, it’s disgusting and makes not only you but your children smell bad. Makes not only you but your children cough, get cancer, get sick.
You sound like a Fucking moron. Smoking isn’t cool. Grow the Fuck up.
No, you grow the fuck up. There’s mountains of constant judgment when it comes to smoking. How about you leave people alone and let them do what they want with their bodies.
There is a REASON. It’s not just their bodies they’re fucking. It’s never just their bodies with something fucking airborne. Especially when you have CHILDREN AND PETS.
My grandfather smoked in his house decades ago. We moved in. We started working on it. After just one day of having the AC off so it could be worked on, I could no longer stay in the house because the smell was coming out of the walls <I>so strongly</I> and triggering my asthma to the point where I couldn’t breathe. My grandfather is dead and his smoking still managed to effect me that negativity. It is not just their body.
My aunt took up smoking in secret as a coping method for her depression. My cousin found out and she was so scared for her mom’s health that she hid the cigarettes. But when my aunt noticed they were missing, do you think she had a calm conversation about the whole thing with my cousin? Nope. She stormed into her room in such a rage, my cousin was too scared to even argue. She just gave the cigarettes back and prayed for her mom to leave the room. There was no explanation for why she took up smoking, for why she was trying to hide it, no reassurance for her worried daughter, not even a question as to why my cousin took them… there was just addiction-fueled anger. Directed at a child who had no control over her environment.
And then there’s my own mother, who has never taken up smoking, but who grew up with two chain-smoking parents. My mom who has permanent lung and throat damage from a lifetime of breathing in smoke that she didn’t ask for. My mom who now takes daily medication so her throat doesn’t ache.
But, tell me again how smoking only affects your body?
I grew up breathing not only my step-dad’s cigarette smoke, but all his friends as they’d frequently hang out in the living room together creating a cloud of smoke that permeated the whole house.
I got asthma at 10.
I found a growth in my left lung at 30.
I now have 1 lung. 1 lung and I’m still asthmatic.
Fuck people who smoke around children.
If you can’t agree with this, then fucking unfollow the shit out of me. Too many people in my family have died. My grandfather lost his wife to Lung Cancer. He still smokes though. And my dad who stopped cold turkey when my oldest brother was born and went through hell to make sure his first kid wouldn’t have to also. But did it help? No. Because his mom didn’t care that she had a newborn inhaling her goddamned secondhand smoke. Don’t you dare say it only affects the smoker. Don’t you dare.
so we have these cookie jars that sit on top of the cupboard right. we’ve had them for years. you can record yourself saying something so when you take the lid off you it will make a noise so you can hear if someone is stealing your cookies or something anyway anyway we have 3 of them. a pig, a cow, and an owl. now i was left alone one day. mum and dad at work, my brother at school and my sister at her boyfriends house. so i had a thought. what if i recorded myself screaming? so i did. in all 3 of them. all 3 different screams too. one was an excited shriek, one was a terrified scream, and one was a long shout. these cookie jars recorded up to 15 seconds, so i took FULL ADVANTAGE of that. now…here’s the thing…i did that almost 3 years ago. and these cookie jars have been sitting on top of the cupboard collecting dust.
until today.
mum’s painting the kitchen, so she had to take everything off the top of the cupboard. and uh…you know how battery powered things…start dying? they……slowly run out of juice? she asked me to check inside one of the jars. the pig, to be exact. and…the pig was the terrified scream. i unsuspectingly opened the jar and as the lid came off the jar, i remembered what i did. but i didn’t remember in time, because in that next second, a fucking demon cry sounded from this Almost Dead Battery Powered Pig Cookie Jar. it was a sound i never want to hear again. everyone ran into the kitchen to see what that god awful sound was and i just stood there, holding this satanic wailing pig. i shut my eyes, and waited the full 15 seconds, until it was silent, before turning to my mum and handed her the pig, and then leaving the kitchen.
i’ll admit i’ve done some dumb things in my life, but nothing could’ve prepared me for the sound i heard today.
There once was a singer of old, Who then broke away from the fold, He won’t give you up, He won’t let you down, In a word you have been limerick-rolled.
How dare you make me read this with my own two eyes…
