I missed most of the gowning and capping and sitting in an auditorium doing fuck all for 3 hours.
Came in time to see some people standing around grinning in forced poses like imbeciles and a tiny lady in a Kimono plus obi taking pictures.
Joined the lot able to ditch their parents in the Westminster Arms and am abused soundly by all for being a huge twat to miss such a glorious occasion.
Foz ‘claims’ he plans on giving up smoking this Saturday.
Why Saturday? Is that the day his pack runs out? (If not, can I have it?) Why not quit now? Or even on Sunday?
Although I’d imagine if God was really creating the world in 6 days, then the Sabbath would be the day he kicks back, puts his feet up and lights a giant god-like fag to blows smoke all over his lovely creation.
Smell that all of you? I made this, I made everything. I made you and I made fags therefore you will smoke them and like them or else burn in hell, you bastards (My god is very Biblical and full of bile).
I spent the last year and so many packs slowly breaking Foz in and now all my effort will go right down the toilet. What a waste.
I find his lack of commitment to smoking really quite B.A.
(I’ve clearly put way too much stock in a celery-muncher. How pedestrian of me.)
Side rant: I loathe non-smokers more and more these days. They’re fucking ‘healthy’ lifestyles and other miscellaneous full-of-it bullshit they’re constantly rubbing into your face. (Worse by far of course are the ones who feel the need to inform you that you ought to quit.)
They had the Cafe’s, they had the workplaces, they had the Starbuck’s and the Batista’s and the Cafe’s Nero’s.
They had every single restaurant in town but Nooooooo thats not good enough. We’re non smokers, oooh you’re so evil. I drive a giant, fuel-guzzling, CO2-emitting 4×4 pollutant, I fly all over the world raising carbons levels, causing global warming and driving innocent Inuits out of their icy homes but your smoking is really the problem.
They want the pubs too. Every single harmless pub, our last refuge. They want the sheesha places. Seriously sheesha places! That’s a place where all you do is smoke sheeshas and drink Arabic coffee. Don’t fucking go there if you don’t want to. Go the fuck home and eat a carrot.
They want the bus stops and complete custody of the goddamn pavement, which as it is, seems to co-owned by pavement hogging mothers and their shat out brats in enormous double-strollers.
They want the bars and the clubs. What miserable greedy swine. What the fuck are non-smokers doing in clubs anyway? They should be in bed early eating a plate of crackers with gruel.
Foz if you ever read this, at least have the decency to remain a social smoker and not cave in pathetically like some Camberwell hippie to all the health hype.
If you’re not careful you’ll start going soft during crits, crying over love heart Valentine day cards, praising scribbles and begin to prefer soft pastel colours.
You’ll think foundation work is fantastic and beautiful in every way. Be warned. Being a non-smoker comes with so much baggage.