Thank You For Smoking.
In roughly exactly 33 days to the approximate T, I will be turning 30 years of age. August 13th is my birthday, and I counted the days until then, taking into account the 31 days July has, and came up with 33. That's how I figured it out. Not only is this date monumental in the marking of my 30th year of life outside the womb, it is also the time in which I have decided I need to give up childish things. No, no, not the comics or frequent Star Wars viewings or video games or toy collecting or immature and politically incorrect jokes. Rather, smoking. I have been a smoker since I was 16, or thereabouts. I remember getting mad at something, possibly my parents or something with school or the lack of any and all attraction being received from the opposite sex. Whatever it was, I met a friend of mine at the lake near the mall and had myself one of his cigarettes. I didn't inhale. Nor did I inhale the next several I smoked in the days and weeks following. Then, one day, outside of t...