There is this unit in the apartment building across the road from me that uses a projector as a TV. From what I can see they have this thing set up in a relatively small room, but it has a huge glass frontage so I can basically see the whole screen from my balcony. They are about fifty metres away from me but I can watch the screen like it was my own television. It’s so big I can read the writing on it from where I am. I wonder how they can stand watching it from a few metres away, but I guess they must like it.
I’m trying to quit smoking.
There is this old man who is always walking up and down my street. He wears green overalls and thongs and shuffles down the long hill on his way to the hardware store past Merthyr St. I usually only get to see him on Saturdays but when I do I see him walk up and down that hill about three or four times. He usually gets tired half way up the hill and has to take a break at the bus stop, which confuses the bus drivers. I wonder if he deliberately never gets all he needs when he gets to Mitre 10 just so he can make another trip later on.
I’m trying to quit smoking.
There are two prostitutes that hang around the street corner just underneath my balcony. They stand there, one in front of the other with the one in the back hugging the one in the front. When I first moved in I naively thought they were lesbians trying to assertively show their gay status. Then I saw them split up and get into cars and I realised they were hookers. Sometimes when I drive around the corner from them into my driveway they think I am trying to solicit them and come over to the car so I have to quickly press the button for the automatic garage door so they know I live there. They look reasonably pretty from far away, but up close their faces are haggard. I wonder if they started working at the same time or just met up on the street for protection.
I’m trying to quit smoking.
There is an old lady who lives upstairs in my building who is always pottering around the complex doing odd jobs. I am reasonably friendly with her and when I stop to say hello she tells me about all the things she has done around the building that day. When I first me her she told me she was eighty-eight so she must be eighty-nine or more by now. She always complains that no one else ever sweeps up the leaves or trims the hedges. I tell her that we have a gardener that does those things every fortnight but she counters that he does a lousy job and if she didn’t clean things up no one would. I wonder if she stopped being so busy all the time she would drop dead.
I’m trying to quit smoking but I just can’t find the time.
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5 comments:
Good luck, may Allah preserve you
I suggest you get some patches and start drinking too much as a replacement for fags. It seems to be working for me.
Amy
i successfully gave up ciggies on sept 1, 2001 and here's how: get an empty cigarette packet, fill it up with pre-rolled doobies & then, when u feel like a ciggie, smoke a doobie instead. too easy!
i call it 'the cane toad method' - feel free to rip it off and claim it as your own, infidel
Well the consensus seems to be that I should replace my fatality inducing nicotine addiction with another, less toxic one.
I'll probably opt for grog. Pot is too expensive here in QLD and the cops are bloodhound sporting fascist.
FAKE EDIT: I smoked about a pack and half last night. Total time clean: 42 hours, 17 minutes. I did manage to get 4 beers into me before falling though, which is a victory of sorts.
I met two Scots here in Tanzania, neither of whom touched a ciggie till they were 30 years old. Then they came travelling and discovered dollar packs of ciggies. They are like 20-a-day folks now. That's why British American couldn't give a toss about Australian anti-smoking legislation - they still have 5 billion customers living in the under-regulated Developing World! Hurrah for cheap and available ciggies!
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