Day 144
For reasons best known to her, the current Mrs. Snowman has decided it’s time to give up smoking. This is a commendable decision and one for which she should be applauded, well…it would be if her choice to renounce the evil weed was confined to herself.
Unwilling to endure the quitting process alone, she has informed me that I’m no longer among the dwindling number of proud nicotine addicts and I too am about to pack it in.
I don’t really know how I’m going to tell her I have absolutely no intention of becoming a non-smoker so I might just do the honourable thing…pretend to go along with it for a few days and lie my arse off.
I realise if I avoid pumping copious amounts of lethal chemicals into my body it will undoubtedly be beneficial to both my health and bank balance but the stupidity gene that is inherent in all men overrides such considerations.
It’s possibly a similar one that thought it would be a good idea to be less than truthful with the wife. Either way, both genetic DNA strands combine soon afterwards to form the one that tells me to hide when she finds out.
Be that as it may, Mrs. Snowman is determined to go through with it which means that, one way or another, so will I.
The clinching testament for my continued use of tobacco came when the wife brightly offered me perhaps the most misguided argument of all time…
“You’ll drink a lot less if you give up”
I immediately reached for the cigarettes in order to calm myself at the thought, although it took a while to light one as my hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
In most civilised parts of the World, this compulsion with smoking will seem to be odd and illogical but you have to understand the political climate of the UK. We are no longer allowed to light up in any enclosed public place (including pubs) for fear of receiving a hefty fine and criminal record. Our useless politicians in Westminster consider it a money saving exercise in that our health will be so much better it’ll save the National Health Service a fortune.
Of course, they failed to take into consideration that they’ve actually lost several billion pounds in revenue from the outrageous amount of duty they slap on a packet of twenty. Idiots.
Over the years I’ve probably paid enough in cigarette taxes to pay for a couple of hospital wings and, more than likely, half the ambulances in central England so I don’t consider my habit to be in any way anti-social. In many respects I’ve probably contributed more to the infrastructure of social health care than Allied Medical.
Combine that with my alcohol intake and the additional taxes I’ve paid by knocking back large ones over the past twenty years and I should be given a fucking knighthood for services to the community. On second thoughts however, I’ve also exhaled sufficient tobacco smoke into the atmosphere to render several species of small animals extinct.
On balance I should be soundly thrashed until my buttocks turn the colour of a baboons balls.
Moving swiftly on to avoid such an image hanging around for too long, we should address matters at the tables.
It’s extremely tempting to brush over today’s inevitable poker disaster and discuss something less traumatic (like having my toenails pulled off or eating one of Mrs. Snowman’s curries without receiving the last rites) but I’m compelled to give you the gory details.
The first tournament saw an attempt to qualify for Sunday’s big tournament by investing $2.20 in a satellite event. The game started at 4.00pm and by 4.03 I was swearing at the screen having seen my pocket Kings rivered by an Ace. Three minutes is not my record although it’s close.
Undeterred, I thought I’d be better off by entering a $4.40 event.
I was better off…I lasted seven minutes in that one.
As my poker account was now under $10 it was probably best to log out and make an arse of myself in the morning. A couple of ciggies were clearly needed.
Now, I although realise that smoking is not only stupid but also incredibly dangerous to the point of being fatal but I should also point out that at no time in my life have I alluded to anyone that I’m in any way sensible.
This was illustrated in an example of humiliating clarity earlier today when I decided it would be an idea to jump under the shower for a few minutes. Within seconds there was a thunderous knocking on the bathroom door and a hysterical mother-in-law screaming at me to close the window.
I’d spent the entire time scrubbing myself clean while giving an accidental full frontal flash to an elderly neighbour.
Oh great.
Starting bank: $0
Current bank: $7.41
Unwilling to endure the quitting process alone, she has informed me that I’m no longer among the dwindling number of proud nicotine addicts and I too am about to pack it in.
I don’t really know how I’m going to tell her I have absolutely no intention of becoming a non-smoker so I might just do the honourable thing…pretend to go along with it for a few days and lie my arse off.
I realise if I avoid pumping copious amounts of lethal chemicals into my body it will undoubtedly be beneficial to both my health and bank balance but the stupidity gene that is inherent in all men overrides such considerations.
It’s possibly a similar one that thought it would be a good idea to be less than truthful with the wife. Either way, both genetic DNA strands combine soon afterwards to form the one that tells me to hide when she finds out.
Be that as it may, Mrs. Snowman is determined to go through with it which means that, one way or another, so will I.
The clinching testament for my continued use of tobacco came when the wife brightly offered me perhaps the most misguided argument of all time…
“You’ll drink a lot less if you give up”
I immediately reached for the cigarettes in order to calm myself at the thought, although it took a while to light one as my hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
In most civilised parts of the World, this compulsion with smoking will seem to be odd and illogical but you have to understand the political climate of the UK. We are no longer allowed to light up in any enclosed public place (including pubs) for fear of receiving a hefty fine and criminal record. Our useless politicians in Westminster consider it a money saving exercise in that our health will be so much better it’ll save the National Health Service a fortune.
Of course, they failed to take into consideration that they’ve actually lost several billion pounds in revenue from the outrageous amount of duty they slap on a packet of twenty. Idiots.
Over the years I’ve probably paid enough in cigarette taxes to pay for a couple of hospital wings and, more than likely, half the ambulances in central England so I don’t consider my habit to be in any way anti-social. In many respects I’ve probably contributed more to the infrastructure of social health care than Allied Medical.
Combine that with my alcohol intake and the additional taxes I’ve paid by knocking back large ones over the past twenty years and I should be given a fucking knighthood for services to the community. On second thoughts however, I’ve also exhaled sufficient tobacco smoke into the atmosphere to render several species of small animals extinct.
On balance I should be soundly thrashed until my buttocks turn the colour of a baboons balls.
Moving swiftly on to avoid such an image hanging around for too long, we should address matters at the tables.
It’s extremely tempting to brush over today’s inevitable poker disaster and discuss something less traumatic (like having my toenails pulled off or eating one of Mrs. Snowman’s curries without receiving the last rites) but I’m compelled to give you the gory details.
The first tournament saw an attempt to qualify for Sunday’s big tournament by investing $2.20 in a satellite event. The game started at 4.00pm and by 4.03 I was swearing at the screen having seen my pocket Kings rivered by an Ace. Three minutes is not my record although it’s close.
Undeterred, I thought I’d be better off by entering a $4.40 event.
I was better off…I lasted seven minutes in that one.
As my poker account was now under $10 it was probably best to log out and make an arse of myself in the morning. A couple of ciggies were clearly needed.
Now, I although realise that smoking is not only stupid but also incredibly dangerous to the point of being fatal but I should also point out that at no time in my life have I alluded to anyone that I’m in any way sensible.
This was illustrated in an example of humiliating clarity earlier today when I decided it would be an idea to jump under the shower for a few minutes. Within seconds there was a thunderous knocking on the bathroom door and a hysterical mother-in-law screaming at me to close the window.
I’d spent the entire time scrubbing myself clean while giving an accidental full frontal flash to an elderly neighbour.
Oh great.
Starting bank: $0
Current bank: $7.41