Chapter 3 - Cigarettes make dirty bathrooms go away

Smoking is bad.
Everybody knows that. There are t.v. commercials that show you that. There are all kinds of way to learn about the bad shit.
It is disgusting and unhealthy.
It is expensive.

But, did you know:
It also helps with dirty bathrooms, you will understand shortly, stick with me here....

Smoking is also fun and cool - that's what I learned when I was a wee lad (teenager).
Now.... it's not cool, but it seems to be a reaction to stressful situations like work. There is a never ending torrential downpour of horse-shit at my particular place of employment. Everyone always has a fucking issue or problem or this or that or FUCK!!!!! it's goddamn crazy. My kids get along better with each other than these fuckers that work with and for me. Sure, the little people (the kids) can go from being buddies to wanting to beat one another with X-box controllers in the blink of an eye, but for the most part they are caring easy going little individuals; but I'm talking about grown men now. Adults. Big kids. Most are parents themselves. And they act like they are fucking toddlers. And I don't mean toddler toddlers. I mean the evil little toddlers like you see in Wal Mart that are being heathens and whatnot. The ones that chunk themselves on the ground and throw a walleyed fit when their moms tell them no. The ones that you want to intervene with and do some asswhooping for their parents. Of course, usually it's the parental figures fault that these little people turn out like they are so maybe we should intervene and do some parental asswhooping ( but this will have to be addressed at another time as I can go on and on with that subject). So, do my guys here at work have shitty parents? Fuck, I don't know. Nor do I care. All I know is that they make me want to smoke.

And besides their little attitudes, you should see the bullshit they pull. Take the nasty shop bathroom that I finally fuckin condemned and ordered porta potties (emptied out, ironically enough, by a friend of Sevey's whose nickname since elementary school has been and still is "POOH". That is fucking irony. And I laugh my balls off every time Sevey mentions this dude. THE GUY WHO EMPTIES THE PORTA POTIES NAME IS POOH !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) for a reprieve. These filthy fucking animals would clog the shitter up and keep on using it. They would keep using it. They would KEEP USING IT!!! In the same (the one and only) stall, there was an overflowing trash can that held dirty disgusting fecal remnants on paper. It spilled out onto the floor like disgusting smelly lava from a shit volcano. It was fucking nasty.

Finally, I had to call everybody together and line them up in front of the bathroom and give them a speech about this. I then made each of them file in and out of there and look at the putrid disgusting display of fkn trashiness in there. Yes, I lined up grown men and made them look at shit that they themselves had left behind. (Jody's brother had just started working there and he got excused as this had been going on for quite sometime. You can ask him if you'd like, it really happened - they were lined up like a Pre-K class.) And then, just as expected, nobody knew who did any of it. Nobody knew shit (no pun intended). They all used it. They were the only ones who worked here. There was just a small number of them. But NOBODY DID IT!!!! How the fuck is that possible? Is there a shit-fairy that destroys bathrooms?

Anyway... what does that make you do? It makes you light a fucking cigarette and enjoy it.

Cigarettes help with dirty bathrooms (told you earlier - now you know what I meant)

Cigarette smoke clears the literal shit from your mind.

That's all for now.


Chapter 2 - F*#@in cigarettes

Well I didn't smoke a fucking cigarette for almost 48 hours (a new personal best). It was a trying time, but much easier than I had expected. Previously when I had attempted such a feat, it got rather ugly and I folded like a 16 year old on prom night after a couple of wine coolers. But this time I proved a little something to myself. I could actually make it. Well, I have the chance to make it. Then last night I just felt like having a cigarette. Not NEEDED a cigarette. Wanted a cigarette. Sure, this make absofuckinglutely no sense, but by Gawd I did so I did. It tasted a bit odd. Sure, you would think " Troy, please, 48 hours and they taste different?". I shit you not fucker, it did. Keep in mind that in the forementioned 48 hours I had 0 cancer sticks smoldering in my mouth when for years (yes YEARS) previous to that I would have had almost 50 of the mother fuckers a day. Yes DAY. as in 2 packs a fucking DAY. Yes, again. TWO FUCKING PACKS OF KILLER SHIT THINGS A MOTHERFUCKIN DAY.

This makes no sense. But as I write this I still feel rather proud, so suck it if you think I have failed. I have weaned myself off the proverbial tobacco teat, or back off the teat rather, quite handsomely, Thank You.

And yes, I used the word teat twice. It's a good word, feel free to use it. Makes me smile every time I do.



Anyway, this is major milestone in my little life and I still feel accomplished so as they always say "baby steps". I shall one day quit these fuckers but just not now. Don't want to totally I guess.

Don't get me wrong. I still have the most amazing reasons to quit and I think of them everyday, I just need to cut myself back gradually I guess or whatever, I shall find my own little path of doing the deed and will triumph and beat the disgusting habit.

It took my wonderful little fiance (a.k.a. the HotMess) a few tries but she got it done and for that I am proud.
It took mi madre years of cancerous bullshit to get it done and for that I am also proud.
I know people that have died due this fucked up obsession with putting fiery sticks in your damn piehole for pete's sake!

and who, by the way, is this fuckin Pete character anyway?

You always hear people say that "Well, for Pete's sake".
What the fuck does that mean?
Who is this cocksucker Pete?
I don't know him.
The only Pete I knew was Pete Powell. Don't think my Granny was referring to him.

And there was this fucker Peter Telford that used to live next door to us. My sister liked him when we were wee little kids (I used wee, that's dumb). He was a fucker. He smashed my toy tractor implement that the old dude from the tractor fixin shop gave me when I was a tiny fucker (fresh off the teat - had to use it again). Fuck Peter Telford you SONOFABITCH. I still remember that. Pissed me smooth off when I found out. But I digress, this piss poor excuse for a human's name was Peter, not the Pete in question obviously.

Holy Shitballs, I got off track there didn't I?

To sum up,
Smoking is dumb
I am getting better at controlling it
Cancer sucks
The HotMess is badass
Mi Madre is also quite cool
The word teat is cool
And you, Mr. Peter Telford, can kiss my ass

So for now I am done.
I shall smoke a few cigarettes.
I shall live to see another day.
I still hate Peter Telford, the cocksucking sonofabitch motherfucker piece of shit that he fucking was and probably still is.
And I will say TEAT one more time.
TEAT (that's actually twice I guess, but fuck off)

I am going to bed here directly and shall return again one day to fill in the blanks

Peace out again bitches

Adamietz Out


Chapter 1 - Smoking Sucks My Ass

I came to the conclusion yesterday that I should stop smoking.

This wild epiphany came to me yesterday after a discussion with my better half. She herself stopped a week ago and is already feeling much better than she had been, but I smoke(d) wayyyyyyy more than she did. I've been doing that shit for years and much like other piss-poor decisions in life, I decided to go full-bore and smoke like a fucking madman. No need to jack around and be a half-ass smoker when you can go balls out and smoke a couple packs a day at the minimum!!!

I started smoking regularly (not including times of being a child and sneaking one of my Mom's Salem Menthol skeeter killers or picking up a butt off the ground at the Quihi Gun Club) when I was 15 years old. By Gawd I had just came into possession of the now infamous "Camouflage Truck" and I needed some Marlboro Lights to complete my new found coolness. I had been smoking them sporadically previous to that cuz that's what the "cool" fkrs I hung out with were smoking.

The Marlboro Lights quickly turned to Marlboro 100s, then Marlboro Reds, Lucky Strikes, Lucky Strike no filters, etc etc and even included the super shitty roll your own Buglers that John and I decided to try out a few times.... I was a fucking smoking machine.

Dad started smoking those little Swisher Sweet Cigars.... fuck it, give me some too.

Little Swisher Sweet Cigarillos..... By Gawd pass those fuckers over too.

Cheap Cigar from the liquor store - I'll even inhale that mother-fucker.... I don't care!!!!

Well..... fast-forward a bunch of years (way too fuckin many) and now I realize that this is fucking stupid. Place cancer causing device in your mouth and set it on fire.... what a concept!!!! Then throw in the fact that I have a badass woman, an amazing family of little people, a Mom that beat cancer's ass down not once, but twice.... and the additional influence of the fact that the little bitches cost WAAAAYYYYY to much now and voila...... fuck it! I'll man up and say no smokey smokey for me.

It's been pretty smooth this first day considering the fact that I would have been on my second pack by now but I'm holding it all together. We'll see how smooth it stays but I'm gonna try like a fucker to keep it together cuz I have a huge amount of stuff to keep me motivated.

That's all I'm gonna say on this little subject for now, gotta get my happy ass back to work.

Peace out bitches