President Obama this week revealed he has not quite kicked his smoking habit following his signature on new anti-smoking legislation.
I love Obama! He’s one of the coolest guys on the planet, he is very human, and he smokes! Whoa!
Americans have vindicated themselves after eight of the darkest years of their mostly proud history. They have voted in a true leader, and a black one with Irish heritage to boot. Not since the Kennedy’s have the Obama’s of County Limerick had so much to be proud of, to be sure.
Obama claimed that he is not a daily smoker, or a constant smoker. He doesn’t smoke at home, or in front of the kids, but he occasionally ‘falls of the wagon’. He is 95% cured though!
He is an inspiration. I have always worked on the 80/20 rule when it comes to life, especially on the topic of moderation, but he has shown me there is room for improvement. 95% eh!
I consult my life coach to see how I can improve my performance. I am excited as we discuss how I can make ME better. We focus on 3 prioriy areas for improvement.
1. Smoking - I too like a cheeky marly, especially with a cocktail. To be fair, I could stop smoking but I would have to stop drinking. If I stopped drinking, my rate of masturbation would likely spike creating all sorts of health dangers.
To hit a 95% cured rate, I must only have 10 tabs a month! Doable! I have only smoked a couple of times in past months but with great intensity. At my SiL’s wedding, I consumed almost 2 packs in one night. I think I was eating them whole by the end of the evening. That was the past!
2. Masturbating - Mrs. BB and I have a passionate and abundant love life, but I have the hormones of a 17 year old and I live in a city with some of the most beautiful and playful women in the world. Not that I am ever tempted to stray, I am one woman man, but it is convenient to pop off to the bog and knock one out occasionally, especially in the summer cafés after lots of drinking and smoking!
To hit a 95% cured rate, I must only apply the handbrake once a week! Man, this is a challenge. It 27C and the forecast is for sun, sun, sun. I might have to stay inside a bit more this summer and especially avoid the beaches.
3. Urinating - Like most boys, my aim is true, but terribly inaccurate. The collateral damage can be devastating, especially on the toilet seat and surrounds. Captain Winky has a mind of his own and squirts out in all manner of directions. I’ve never been known to talk out of both sides of my mouth, at the same time, but my Member of the House certainly has.
To hit a 95% cured rate, I must have a laser guidance device installed in my penis, you know like in those smart bombs. This will still be a tough performance target to hit. In the end, I decide on taking the box lunch at the Y approach and sit on the toilet to wee. Early trials are mixed. There are still a few misfires and I feel like a pansy, but I have reduced the swaying factor.
It is a breath of fresh air to find a leader who is inspiring, is alive, sets a great example for all, and is of my generation.
I just can’t believe how much Obama and I have in common. I guess many boys of our generation do.
Beaverboosh
Showing posts with label Smoking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Smoking. Show all posts
Friday, June 26, 2009
Saturday, February 9, 2008
What Have You Been Smoking?
The English have gone mad. They are smoking skunk! Apparently, smoking skunk turns one catatonic and can lead to permanent psychosis! My eyes water just thinking of the smell.
Our little Mephitidae friends are found in Canada and the US but are not natural habitants of the UK. The Brits must be importing them. I thought badgers would have been the first choice as they are in great abundance in the UK. Badger arse hair is the preferred shaving brush implement of the gentry which might put people off smoking them.
Peppy LePew, if you are reading this, run for fear this trend grips France.
The next thing you know, Canadians will be smoking beaver.
Oddly enough, Amy Winehouse is keen on smoking crack! I assume it is her own she is smoking and not someone else’s. I have not heard of this technique but surely a waxing would be more effective than smoking her kipper if hair removal is the objective, especially if she is using woodchips. What a mess!
I had a South African colleague who often asked, “are you smoking your socks?” This was usually the result of one of my extreme project work demands like, "can you climb to the top of Mt. Everest without oxygen, clean up the rubbish, and be back down by 4 to pick up my dry cleaning?"
I treasure my cashmere socks and weep inconsolably when a hole appears, I could not think of smoking them! I do not know if there is a long tradition of smoking one’s socks in South Africa. It most certainly explains why there were so many sock-less spaced out people walking around Johannesburg the last time I visited.
I worked with an American in London who would often say to me, “put that in your pipe and smoke it!” I thought this particularly strange as I don’t smoke a pipe. Another of his favourite announcements was, “run that up your flagpole!” I mean really, who has a flagpole in London bar the Queen.
To avert the smoking ban, Hookah cafés starting popping up in the US citing exclusions on both religious and cultural grounds. Smoking fruit flavoured tobacco in the shisha has become popular. Americans are crazy enough without this weed concoction affecting their judgement. The Arabs have been smoking the stuff for over 3000 years and look what it’s done to them!
Let us be hopeful that maybe it will bring the 2 cultures a bit closer together.
Following the smoking ban in France, critics argued of the impending cultural peril of their precious café culture. I cannot take the French seriously, except on matters of wine, cheese, and infidelity. The thought of French cafés filled with the din of intellectually bankrupt idealism, flailing gesticulations, pouting lower lips, and inferior espresso sans Gitanes makes me giggle.
The public smoking ban is being implemented in many countries and though I know this is for the good of mankind, it has taken away from public sights, one of my small indulgences. To Beaverboosh, a cheeky Marly light with a stiff cocktail is almost like good sex, with myself of course.
Thank the gods, I can still smoke on the roof top terrace of my London club. It is a long way from Oslo to go for a martini and a cigarette, but well worth it, and its décor reminds me of being in Marrakech, except in the winter when it is cold and wet when it reminds me of being in, uhm England.
I wonder if they have started smoking skunk in Soho. I doubt it. I cannot believe the Soho sophisti-cats would stoop to such suburban practices.
Beaverboosh
Our little Mephitidae friends are found in Canada and the US but are not natural habitants of the UK. The Brits must be importing them. I thought badgers would have been the first choice as they are in great abundance in the UK. Badger arse hair is the preferred shaving brush implement of the gentry which might put people off smoking them.
Peppy LePew, if you are reading this, run for fear this trend grips France.
The next thing you know, Canadians will be smoking beaver.
Oddly enough, Amy Winehouse is keen on smoking crack! I assume it is her own she is smoking and not someone else’s. I have not heard of this technique but surely a waxing would be more effective than smoking her kipper if hair removal is the objective, especially if she is using woodchips. What a mess!
I had a South African colleague who often asked, “are you smoking your socks?” This was usually the result of one of my extreme project work demands like, "can you climb to the top of Mt. Everest without oxygen, clean up the rubbish, and be back down by 4 to pick up my dry cleaning?"
I treasure my cashmere socks and weep inconsolably when a hole appears, I could not think of smoking them! I do not know if there is a long tradition of smoking one’s socks in South Africa. It most certainly explains why there were so many sock-less spaced out people walking around Johannesburg the last time I visited.
I worked with an American in London who would often say to me, “put that in your pipe and smoke it!” I thought this particularly strange as I don’t smoke a pipe. Another of his favourite announcements was, “run that up your flagpole!” I mean really, who has a flagpole in London bar the Queen.
To avert the smoking ban, Hookah cafés starting popping up in the US citing exclusions on both religious and cultural grounds. Smoking fruit flavoured tobacco in the shisha has become popular. Americans are crazy enough without this weed concoction affecting their judgement. The Arabs have been smoking the stuff for over 3000 years and look what it’s done to them!
Let us be hopeful that maybe it will bring the 2 cultures a bit closer together.
Following the smoking ban in France, critics argued of the impending cultural peril of their precious café culture. I cannot take the French seriously, except on matters of wine, cheese, and infidelity. The thought of French cafés filled with the din of intellectually bankrupt idealism, flailing gesticulations, pouting lower lips, and inferior espresso sans Gitanes makes me giggle.
The public smoking ban is being implemented in many countries and though I know this is for the good of mankind, it has taken away from public sights, one of my small indulgences. To Beaverboosh, a cheeky Marly light with a stiff cocktail is almost like good sex, with myself of course.
Thank the gods, I can still smoke on the roof top terrace of my London club. It is a long way from Oslo to go for a martini and a cigarette, but well worth it, and its décor reminds me of being in Marrakech, except in the winter when it is cold and wet when it reminds me of being in, uhm England.
I wonder if they have started smoking skunk in Soho. I doubt it. I cannot believe the Soho sophisti-cats would stoop to such suburban practices.
Beaverboosh
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