I started smoking when I was 16 years old, probably earlier but I didn’t really excel at the sport until then. I believe Dodging Lions convinced me smoking would be a good idea- he, himself, did not take-up the habit. He went on to be voted “Best Looking” of our high school class and I was voted “Most Likely To Vomit After Walking Up Two Flights Of Steps.” Anyway, 3 years ago, after many years, I quit smoking. I hear you- “You don’t drink, you don’t do drugs and you don’t smoke? What will you do next, walk on water?” Yes, that’s exactly what I’m planning on doing and while walking on water I intend to look a porn.” Kelly and I both quite smoking at the same time, and we stayed together. It has not been easy to NOT smoke in Paris and, unfortunately, Kelly fell off the wagon.
I recall when we first quit, Kelly’s little sister Kate said to her.
“Misplaced is the weak link in your quest to quit smoking-when he fails miserably stay strong don’t smoke.”
I look back on that now and think, “WRONG! In your face, Kate! Ha!”
It isn’t about proving Kate wrong – but she was obviously very, very wrong- it is about Kelly. Yesterday, Kelly quite smoking after 2 months. Let’s just say that withdrawal is an ugly thing and I am apparently the dumbest, fattest, most insensitive, worst cook, laziest non-writing writer she has ever met. We are hoping for a better day today.