23rd
38. No, You CAN’T Have A Fucking Cigarette
Good evening, children! I’m taking time from my busy schedule of summer classes (which was a dumb idea, considering I could be working instead of wondering what the fuck possessed me to take a full load of credits) to bring you this Very Important public service announcement. Okay, public service bitching. Still, it’s important, so pay attention.
*ahem*
Unless I, Randy of Shit Randy Hates, walk out of my house dressed up as a 7-11 (which happens more often than I’d like to admit), you should not be asking me for a cigarette. In fact, you shouldn’t be asking me for anything more strenuous than what the fucking time is. Okay?
Look. I understand that times are tough. Our economy’s in the shitter, and the price of smokes keeps going up (probably to pay for all those lawsuits). But when you ask me for a free cigarette, you’re making two of the most idiotic assumptions EVER:
- That I have enough money to afford to give you anything at all, and
- That I actually give a fuck about your well-being.
That’s right; I don’t really care about you. I don’t know who you are, I’m not interested in whatever fucking sob-story you have ready to roll out, and I’m sure as hell not into parting with anything that belongs to me, just because you have no sense of shame (as evidenced by asking complete strangers for a handout). Yeah, I’m a callous bastard. And yeah, I’m okay with that.
Also: if I’m not willing to give up one of my smokes with a grizzled old war vet who’s addicted to huffing women’s footwear, what in the FUCK makes you think I’m going to give one to you, Obvious Underage Teen? You look like you fell out of your mother’s toilet parts a month ago. I’m not going to detract from MY bad life decisions just so I can help contribute to YOURS.
I know I shouldn’t smoke. It’s expensive, it’s pretty gross, and I can onlyimagine what it’s doing to my insides. I know all that. But I also LIKE it. It stops me from wanting to choke the shit out of people who beg me for a cigarette. Besides, I don’t care what you say- it looks fucking cool. The brown escargot-looking shit I cough up in the morning is a minor worry at best (“That came out of ME?!”). Besides, if I came out of the local Stop-n-Rob with a case of beer, would you ask me for one of those, too? ”Hey, buddy, kin ya spare a cold one? Sure am thirsty.” Eat a dick, wouldja? I’d tell you to get a job, but seeing as how I’m without one myself, just go eat a dick.
Besides- they’re fuckin’ bad for you. Now go away.
