Smokning

"Smokning," that's right, it isn't a typo., I think an extra "n" fits into nearly any word, making it better. I have a story about smoking.

Okay, I was driving on HWY 50 this morning in Jefferson City. I grew up in a development along RT-50, but 1,200 miles east...

I pulled up next to a glorious woman in an old Toyota Tercel. She was about 450 lbs., had a few chins, and was smoking like a foundry. It was so awesome watching her. Every time she put the cigarette to her mouth, she would draw the smoke in and close her eyes. Maybe I had the pleasure of witnessing the day's first smoke, because she was totally into it. I became jealous of her. She had no idea that I was watching because at that moment, her world was a few grams of tobacco leaves, cut, trimmed, and rolled in paper. Her eyes shut for two seconds, which is an eternity while driving.

I kept looking over at her and wishing I was that woman. Yes, she was glorious.

++++++++++++++++++++++++

I learned on the radio last night that some people are struggling with Post Election Selection Trauma, or PEST, and need counseling. We need another sorry everybody website for those people. Dude, I don't think half the people I voted for were elected, and I'm okay. But apparently, this trauma is real, so, like... sorry and stuff.

--gh