The house is smoke free.

As you may be aware I've been struggling with relieving my addiction to nicotine for about a month. Now KM has decided to rid himself of the habit and the Jiggaman has given up his love affair with the tasty cloves. Yep the house is now smoker free.

While I'm proud of my roommates taking the steps to rid themselves of the risk of a trachemotomy I'm concerned about our mental health. KM owns a lot of guns. I posses super secret martial arts abilities which I learned by spending years under the study of an army of ninjas. The Jiggaman likes to show his ass a lot. This is a recipe for disaster.

I imagine myself losing the entire battle. In a horrifying nicfit, KM will load his guns and start shooting into my room. I will dodge all bullets Keanu style then punch and kick them one by one back in his direction. Maybe catch a few with my teeth. The Jiggaman will then run up the stairs and state "your skills are no match for the power of my ass" and will bend over. The force arising from his buttocks will render me helpless...soon lifeless. I'm doomed. Doomed I tell you.

It's been nice knowing you all. Well not all of you. Okay some of you.

As much as I hate the addiction there are a few things I miss about smoking. Not the act of smoking, but the people I meet when lighting up on a break at work. The Brown Bear clerk, who everytime I purchased a pack she would always call me a pet name i.e. baby cakes, hot stuff, etc. She's cute and hearing such kind words were always an ego boost. She never said it to anyone else but me of course. At least that's what I'd like to think. These things though aren't worth paying people to kill me.

"If you're smart enough to avoid smoke from a pile of burning leaves in your back yard, why would you voluntarily suck smoke from the burning leaves of a cigarette?" - Duane Alan Hahn