Tag Archives: Smoking

My Spider-Baby Army, or, ‘Where the New Year has made me slightly insane.’

I am still not dead. Though I appreciate my lack of postings would suggest otherwise.

Ever since the time I murdered the Daddy-Long-Legs by trying to save it’s life, I’ve become a bit ridiculous in regards to spider safety. For example, if I find a Daddy-Long-Legs in my shower, instead of trying to save it (because we all know how well THAT turned out) I now try and angle my body so the minimal amount of water spray gets on it. Which makes my shower insanely uncomfortable. I tried ‘pretending’ I didn’t see them and so if, oh well, my shower spray sent them spiralling down the drain I told myself it wasn’t my fault. BUT IT WAS.

I clearly have problems.

Just now, while going out to enjoy a summer evening cigarette*, I noticed a spider, a white one, not sure what kind, perched by my doorway. Surrounding it was a lot of little spider-babies. After my initial freak out, with the thought of them growing up and running around my house, I’ve decided I’m quite fond of them. I certainly can’t kill them. THEY’RE CHILDREN. And so one half of me hopes they grow up really quickly and leave home to seek their fortunes, while the other (and I admit, more imaginative half) has dreams of creating a Spider-Baby Army in which they obey my every whim. The picture in my head is very a la Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets:

With a bit of Aladdin thrown in. The Aladdin part is where I picture myself riding the biggest spider under a canopy, languidly** waving my arms to command my Spider-Baby Army.

It’s all pretty awesome.

* Enjoyment is a strong word, as I’m smoking the second rate Champion Ruby as the IGA in the sticks that I was forced to go to had run out of Golden Virginia. What the hell? Who smokes Golden Virginia outside of Europe apart from me?

** Languid should clearly be in the list of words to be used as often as possible.

Images from: harrypotter.wikia.com and atomicmail.com

The Return of Smoking Boy, laughing and sharing one Peter Jackson at a time.

The other day I was talking with my mother who remarked on the fact she hadn’t seen an update on my blog lately. Then she said, ‘I really want to know what Smoking Boy is up to’, like he was some kind of superhero. Which would be totally awesome.

So here is the latest entry from Smoking Boy, illustrated by this insanely appropriate picture I found courtesy of Google Images and Motivated Posters.

29th June 2000

Wow! The last two days have bean heaven and hell for me. I got  lighter off Dave yesterday and smoked heaps. The first morning break I had 2 PJ’s, ate a small Mars Bar and then lit up again. I had to give half away to Tom cause I couldn’t last.

Trouble is brewing for Smoking Boy. His very powers seem to be acting as a kryptonite against him.

Last night Dave stayed over and we smoked out the window. The room smelt so bad in the morning. Mum & Dad seem like they know something but I’m not sure. I think it’s just Mum being really suspicious.

No shit Smoking Boy. You smoked out a window, room smelt like smoke, Mum is suspicious. It’s a fairly linear cause and effect equation.

I felt SO sick after last night. We had approximately 20 mins sleep. Dave smoked about eight and I had four or five. He is so… grouse (for need of a better word). We have so much fun together – when we play or not.

Smoking Boy is totally getting out-smoked by his side kick Band Boy and he can’t even tell. Smoking Boy needs to sharpen up.

Melanie rang tonight and “apparently” she’s started smoking. I believe it but she has no reason to – not that I do – hee hee! It’d be great if we all go see a movie and I’ve got my own smokes. I wouldn’t have to scab off Lara or Nick. Fun!

A new Superhero in town! SMOKING GIRL! Check out Smoking Boy judging her try hard smoking efforts. Cos he’s a total smoking veteran now, and she’s trying to superhero it up on his turf and shit.

Tomorrow is the last day of band. I’m gonna miss everyone until I see them again soon. I’ll miss everything – the playing, the smoking, the talking, laughing, etc.

This is almost as fun as ‘we play, we smoke, we share…’. In fact, possibly even more fun.

Well, I suppose I should sleep ‘cause I’ve got a pretty big day tomorrow.

Well, g’night!

Goodnight Smoking Boy! Until your next rebellious teen adventure!

My rolling is better then your rolling. Get your hand off my shoulder.

The other day I was meeting George and I was running late because I had spent far too long in my little sister’s shop looking at pretty clothes that I couldn’t afford to buy but bought anyway.

So I’m walking briskly down Chapel St and I’m at the corner of Chaps and High, happily dragging on some sweet, sweet nicotine and waiting for the lights to change when a man approaches me and asks if he can roll himself a cigarette when we get to the other side.

Well no, I say, I’m afraid I’m in a bit of a hurry.

He looks a bit taken aback at my refusal and says, come on man, it’ll only take 3 minutes.

At this point I think to myself, 3 minutes? are you serious? You suck at rolling cigarettes you stupid wannabe roller wanker, I can roll a cigarette in under 20 seconds while walking and a strong wind is blowing and it’s raining and I’m toting an inside out umbrella and I know this because I’ve been TIMED and that’s not even my PB and you’re telling me to hover on the other side of the street while I wait as you dip your grubby who knows where they’ve been fingers in my tobacco for three whole minutes?


But I smile politely, and say, no, look, I’m really sorry, but indeed I am in a big hurry and really have to bolt down this street as soon as the lights change.

He then puts his hand on my shoulder. I barely repress a shudder. In fact I don’t repress it at all and shudder quite obviously. He says, with what I think he believes to be a winning smile, that he would really appreciate it.

I remove his hand and tell him, again politely, that I’m afraid I can’t oblige.

The lights are still red.

It’s at this point I realise how hard it is to look like you’re in a hurry when you’re standing still. So I try to overcompensate with lots of heavy sighing, obsessive pedestrian light button pushing, clicking of my tongue, and shifting my weight from leg to leg and looking, no doubt, like someone who really, really needed to wee and this whole time this man is staring at me with a sulky look on his face.

I’ve realised that if I was a non-smoker, scabby people bothering me would be cut down by half. I would still be accosted by junkies asking for 50c so they can get back to their kids in Frankston though.

We play, smoke, share…

Tuesday 27th June 2000

Da da! Hellooo! So, wat’s up? They say the sky is. Hee hee hee! Funee!

‘Nother great day at band. I bought my first 2 decks today – 20 Peter JACSON (Super mild) x2. Dave is going to swap me a Longbeach 40 for one pack of PJ’s – I’m happy! He’s also giving me a lighter so I’m all set.

This is seriously like a drug swap. It’s amazing. I love the detail! Especially the apostrophe in ”nother’.

Dave is staying tomorrow night so we’ll have fun! He’s coming home with us tomorrow and then we’re driving him to band.

I love smoking! It feels great and I reckon it looks good too. Biffy doesn’t like me -> thank goodness! She’s just being a great pal. She’s a very touching & feeling sort of person.

I am dead. DEAD. This entire paragraph kills me. I just tried to quote my favourite bits but ended up writing out the entire paragraph again.

I wish I could tell Mum & Dad about the smoking thing. I just really want them to know about it so there is no confrontation later on. I know in my bones that they’ll find out. I mean Mum is so nosey she pokes around in everything. I don’t even know where to hide the decks that I got but I suppose I’ll find somewhere.

I love the feeling of being part of a group like band. We have so much fun together. We play, smoke, share and have fun together. We all like each other and respect the skills each person has.

“We play, smoke, share…” Dying some MORE. It’s like a testimonial for all adolescent experiences. It’s actually on the front cover of the brochure next to a picture of a bunch of kids with guitars and drum sticks, smoking and sharing.

Well, it’s 9:30pm (approx.)! I better get to sleep and be ready for tomorrow. G’night!

Can’t even breathe.

There is no title that will adequately describe my joy with this entry

Monday 26th June 2000

First day of band camp* and it was fun. Dave and Tim are in my group so it’s even more fun!

I’m smoking everywhere now. I need to get Nick/Lauren or maybe (probably) Dave to buy me a deck. I smoke at band & when I’m with school friends (i.e. Nick & Lauren). So much fun.

I feel that Biffy likes me. I don’t know why but I get the feeling she does. She’s cool but I wouldn’t go out with her.

I AM SHATTERED. Who WOULDN’T go out with me? … yeah, no one needs to comment an answer to that.

I wish I could smoke openly but…. Too young. It’s all I think about now-a-days. Am I addicted? Think about this point.

I figure… what’s the use with loving Linda! I mean it’s obvious she’ll never like me so I think I’ll just get on with life. Maybe Melanie is the way to go. I mean – Jane told me she liked me. Maybe!

I’ve stopped feeling sorry for me and have now started feeling sorry for Melanie.

It’s 8:08pm and I’m just going to have some cornflakes and a tumbler of milk and then go to sleep. I need it for tomorrow. I’m working an hour each morning at Dad’s work.

I need a smoke! If Mum & Dad found out I’d discuss it rationally.** I’d sit down (they’d both be having hissy fits!) and I’d tell them that they have no actual way of stopping me & “at least I’m not drugs”!

Well, I better go to sleep. G’night!

* Hee hee! Band Camp! I changed this just for the fun.

** There is no such thing as a rational teenager.

Where o where is Linda? O fickle youth!

Friday 23rd June 2000

Hello! Hello! It’s 11:45pm and Josh is here. We have just been to the band break up thingy – heaps of fun! The bands were great and it was pretty loud music. Heaps of moshing!

Smoking is the best! I love it sssooooooo much. I did it with Pete Bannen, Nick (some dude), Shane & Mary. Heaps & heaps of fun. Don’t know why I like doing it but the feeling it gives me is great – fun, fun, fun. If Dad finds out about it I’ll just tell him that he did it.


I had to get clarification on the smoking here. Like, dude, were you talking about weed here? You’re oddly obsessed. No. Just good ol’ cigarettes. I remember the days when smoking was such an Event. It was very, okay, so we’ll meet at lunchtime behind Mobil, right? and you bring the pack and I’ll bring the lighter. And tell Natasha cos I think she wants to come. Don’t tell Hannah though cos I’m full cut at her at the mo.

We were so organised and sneaky!

Day One – fucked that up already

Well that sucked. I had a cigarette. It wasn’t even very nice. I must get my Magic Book.

Champix makes you stop the nicotine cravings but that’s easy. The hard part is quitting the blessed action of smoking. Today in this infernal Dante-esque heat, smoking is kinda gross, but as soon as the sun goes down and it’s all nice and summer night like and etc it is super hard.

So I’m going to pop a pill now. I have had a break from them so I don’t know how this is going to work. Cos initially you take one a day and then after awhile you take a stronger one, then two a day and etc, but I’m just going in for the big ones again cos that’s all I have left.


Some interesting things to note:

When you have no fly spray, deodorant works better then hairspray.

Sophie Was A Dog

Sophie was a dog. She was a Lassie and wimpy as shit. Shit isn’t exactly wimpy but it’s an expression.

Tomorrow I’m quitting smoking for the second time. I fell off the bandwagon recently. And when I say ‘fell’ I really mean I lost my balance a little bit and thought fuck it and just jumped off.

I am going back on the druuuugs which is Champix which makes you crazy but it didn’t make me too crazy just made me a little light headed, headachey and cigarettes completely unsatisfying. Then I stopped the drugs and hence bandwagon jumpidge. So I’m going to read the Magic Book. The Magic Book being ‘The Easy Way to Stop Smoking’ by Allen Carr. Apparently it’s magic. I’ll go for that.

So here goes it. But as it’s not tomorrow yet (well… it’s 12.04 at night but let’s not quibble) I’m going to have a cigarette. I’ll say goodbye like it’s a friend* moving to Eastern Europe**.

* I am aware I should not think of cigarettes as ‘friends’.

** They still smoke a lot in Eastern Europe.