Tuesday, March 07, 2023

my only friend, the end

hello there


right, as reporting my posts seems to be fashionable (perhaps i have inexplicably become part of all this wonderful cancel culture what i don't understand, look you see), best i do the warning up front. it so happens that smoking (as in cigarettes or cigars, apparently smoking grass is fine) is very bad for you, extremely silly and you should not do it. should you be a smoker, quitting is a really good idea and you can get all sorts of support and help. to that end, this post isn't really meant to be an endorsement or promotion of such. honest. 

starting off with where i would much rather have started off and, well, lots and lots of strange things happen down in that there London (innit). certainly quite a few peculiar things happen to me. like, for instance, that one week where i was approached by a gentleman who thought, on the basis of mistaken identity, that i had solicited his friendship on a short term basis (it was the bloke next to me), and then kind of got caught in an armed police operation or "sting". 

but strange is by no means always bad. just unexpected. like, for instance, a moment where a gentleman randomly approaches you in the middle of the street, asking if you would care to purchase some, and these were not my words, "authentic French Marlboro". 


yes, i said, rather enthusiastically. or oui oui, tres bien, if that's the French way of saying such. actually i believe it was more the case of me saying how much, and when i was told the price being requested, which was a curiously specific £4, i very much passionately said yes. due to the shambolic, insane and unfair taxation policy of our government, that's about one third (or better) of the "legal" price. quite the bargain, assuming they were ok, and a valuable lesson, kids - cash was, is and always shall be tax free, don't rush to make the world a "cashless society". 

a relatively new colleague was with me, and asked me what was going on after the deal had been both brokered and completed. he, reasonably, asked me what the f*** i thought i was playing at, for it was entirely likely (plausible) that they were bad fakes, or dangerous. like, for instance, he said, they could be totally laced with asbestos. i pointed out that off the shelf, real cigarettes (i don't think i can use the proper English word, fags, for them no more as Americans use that world all wrong) are hardly known for being overloaded with vitamins and so forth. relenting he said i should have at least waited for him as he would have negotiated it down to £3 for me, to which i pointed out that had he asked for £5 he would have got it. he then just asked me not to smoke them whilst with him in case they did indeed instantly kill me, so i agreed to break them open at a later date. like, now. 


there was of course every chance that they were (potentially dangerous) counterfeit or bootleg cigaretts claiming to be Marlboro. i didn't think they were, for surely those what do the pirates don't waste costs on the embossed packaging, which these have. or had. as in the Marlboro lettering is "lifted" up, so you can feel it. a but like braille, i suppose, but for smokers. on opening, as above, you can see they did seem to be legit. that said, the classic red packaging is a thing of the past in most countries, with plain packets and warnings being all the rage. 

prior to smoking one, though, i did pause for thought. and that thought was of an incident which feels many a lifetime ago, somewhere as a different person in a different place, what, three or more decades before where we are now. a group of us were out and about, being social, when a rather imposing, somewhat intimidating looking gentleman offered us a sample of some "powder". the overwhelming number of us declined in a polite way, but one of us decided to dip a finger in, taste it, decide it was really rather good and procured more. what are you doing, we asked, but on the went. 

later on we found said unnamed person, after he had departed from us momentarily. he had placed himself under a bed, where he had taken to biting a pillow frequently. the only break, or respite he took from this was to stop biting the pillow, do a bit of a growling noise and plead for it all to stop. we felt it best to just leave him to it rather than trouble any authorities unnecessarily. but what if such fate was what awaited smoking these? 


up to now, no. just a relatively straightforward smoking experience. and a lovely one at that, for the brand Marlboro are the best you can get for such (even though it is bad for you and you should not do it at all), with red being the ultimate pinnacle. oh, but it has been so long since i had these, and my senses dulled by cheaper alternates, but the familiar sense of them was there from time to time. 

by virtue of the fact that you are reading this (thanks for doing so) i guess you are aware of it being so that there was no instant death off of these cigarettes. long term, for sure, certainly, for i am condemned, unlike all of those non-smokers who are immortal. yet science, of course, says that i am immortal, but let us not have that conversation again. 


now this is interesting, for tow reasons. firstly it's a count of the nicotine in it, and presumably tar, if that is what "goudrons" translates as. this information used to be on all packets, but quietly fell away at some stage. either it was found to be inaccurate, i suppose, or too many people were misinterpreting why it was there, and took it as a challenge to smoke only cigarettes which had the highest content of each of these things. secondly, then, i suppose these are not "authentic" French cigarettes as they are in some way off of Algeria. which is kind of French only when an Algerian footballer looks good enough for the French side to steal as one of their own. 

so, no, not a single regret about this purchase in itself. i certainly do regret not asking the chap if he had any more, and buying as many as i had cash for off of him. everything about his approach and manner, however, suggested he just had the one. let me assume it is so, rather than dwell on what might have been. 


generally things not in English (either proper or American variation) sound quite exotic and interesting, but then this is quite class. i could speculate, or guess, what (exactly) is meant by fumer nuit a vos poumons, but where's the fun in that? likely that it just says smoking is bad, or poisonous. which of course it is, best i clarify. 

fate, destiny or simple choice dictates that i am indeed to return to that there London (innit) place once more, and further still. it will be with joy if someone one more offers me something of this nature for the cost of £4 or less (or "fewer" as is trendy) whilst there. 





be excellent to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!




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