Coming from NY, where I spent quite a few years smoking, then trying not to smoke, then smoking only when I went to bars, then bumming from other people, I have returned to the tobacco state with quite a few years of tobacco free living under my belt. Nothing worse than the self-righteous ramblings of an ex-smoker, I know, but after Bloomberg helped get cigarette smoking banned in restaurants and bars, I come home to find that bars still allow it. Urgh. Okay, fine - cheap beer and a rainy Monday night at dive bar almost require it. Doesn't make it any more tolerable for the born-again breathers. Went to the Blind Tiger last night to check out the open mic night - other wise known as the Good, The Bad, and the Out of Tune - and left with a headache, a persistent sneeze, and clothes that smelled god-awful. In honor of cigarette smokers everywhere -and my beloved North Carolina- I give you, Robbie Fulks:
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment