Kicking butts, taking names.

I know I've joked/threatened/weakly attempted this in the past, but the time has come for me to give up on smoking. Sure, it does wonders for making one look cooler, and everyone needs to a little reminder that maybe they're run too long or walked up too many stairs, but the time is now.

Like most in the fair state of Massachusetts who are not ready to pay eight bucks a pack, a big "Fuck you, I hope your family gets murdered" at those who have made this change happen. You are scum and I reiterate that I hope your family is murdered/and or raped. All hostilities aside, this is a great opportunity for me, since I have no money, to go without those wonderful little cancer sticks.

This is actually not a complete certainty, as nothing in my life really ever is, but I've been putting forth an effort to stop. Less than a pack a day, which just a few months ago was around two or two and a half (thats 40 cigarettes or more per day..) This is all entirely for something I will make no reference to, not even really a vague description. Its not because I don't want to get cancer or anything, but yeah, it's something else. However, those uncertainties really manage to fuck things up when you're making a literal life or death situation, and while it may be my fault for not just getting an answer, well... Shut up!

That's really all I've got. This was started a few weeks ago when i was more motivated to quit smoking. Now there's some new variables and such. Feelings may get hurt, friendships will probably end, and I've got a hunch I'll continue smoking until I die at the ripe old age of whenever-the-fuck. Or maybe I'll just find out for sure the answer to my question..