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.