Smoke 'em if you got 'em: I'm throwing away the ashtrays tonight and cleaning out my car. The thought of tomorrow gives me an anxiety attack. Mom is in full blown panic mode. Hoop, ever the stoic one, is acting as if nothing out of the ordinary is happening. He's been a lot more distracted though, smoking as if the world were ending tomorrow and not just our life as smokers. We've all made pacts not to take anything personally for the next two weeks. Still... I'm hiding all the knives.
It's been the best of times and the worst of times. I knew our union had to end eventually. You're killing me. The first time we met, I was partying with your cousin Mary Jane. She was a wild gal, always getting me into trouble. Meeting you was like a breath of fresh air. Well, maybe not fresh. But unlike your cousin, I could hang with you and not end up forgetting where the hell I parked the car. You showed me around town and hooked me up with all your underage rebel supporters. Knowing you made us feel cool.
Over time our friendship aged. I became dependent on you. You were always my first contact when things got stressful or complicated. Somehow you always made me feel better. But I've come to realize that this relationship isn't healthy. I'm constantly giving you money and in repayment you make me sick. I light your fire and you make me stink. You're an outcast in restaurants, only accepted at bars. When I drink with you, you lose your head and burn the people around you. It's time to put this friendship to rest.
Please don't show up at my house again. Don't try to get to me through Hoop, with all your seductive ploys. Don't use our mutual friend, Coffee, to remind me of how much I adored our gatherings. Let me mourn the loss without you creeping in while I am weak. It's OVER. Thank you for all the friends you've introduced me to while hanging out on breaks. Thank you for bringing Hoop and I together. Fortunately, we have much more in common then that now. It's been an experience I'll never forget.
Daily Hoop Conversation:
(Hoop limps along as we walk down town)
Tink: What's wrong with you?
Hoop: I pulled a muscle while at work.
Tink: Aw babe!
Hoop: I'm OK.
Tink: You don't look OK.
Hoop: I'm fine. Quit looking at me like that.
Tink: Like what?
Hoop: With pity. I have my pride you know.
Tink: Don't talk to me about PRIDE, buster. I've smelled your shit.
Tink: What are you doing?
Hoop: I'm trying to get away from you.
Tink: Haha. You can limp but you cannot hide!
Friday Funnies: Check out this site, detailing "The Worst Jobs In History." Any one of these will give you a newfound appreciation for your current job. It could always be worse. You could be a Leech Collector. Bleh.
Have a great weekend all!