I smoke, drink, and love women. These things are dangerous to your health, and should all have warning labels. Only two of them do.
When I have a cigarette, I am not sharing the nervousness and disease every other smoker has ever had. My pathology is my own. A hacking cough is all the physicality it demands. The knowledge I always have something in my face that doesn't ask I pay more attention to it or threaten to go home to 'mother', provides my release. Pall Mall has never hurt my feelings, only damaged my heart.
I love to drink. I like being dizzy and ditsy and pretty for no reason. My beer listens to what I say, and when I empty it of sweet ale, the bottle doesn't bitch about how I was satisfied first. I don't feel ashamed to express my gratitude with a vociferous belch and a nap after the deal is done. My last beer never nags me about my next drink. Most importantly, I can revel in the fact that not using a coaster just feels better and more natural. The 'tall boy' is my only reason for a pregnant pause.
The Women I have known have one thing in common. No matter the mix of desire and ice that gave them their flavours, they satisfied a thirst. Many men in this fast food world believe everything has a price and is equally replaceable. Like a cigarette, one brand is the same as another. Blue and Canadian are virtually indistinguishable. Women are blonds, brunettes and redheads. Some are long and lean, some are big and busty. In my life I have left an obvious trail of all three. There is one subtle difference. Even if I did think of women as garbage, I know, for a fact, I would recycle and compost.
DaBuoy
